


Winter's Touch

by Uthizaar



Series: The Cycle of Theodric [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Action, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Magic, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Curses, Darach Theo Raeken, Exhibitionist Liam Dunbar, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Magical Weapons, Masturbation, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, No Chimeras, Oral Sex, Pagan Gods, Polyamory, Public Masturbation, Rimming, Sex Magic, Sexual Fantasy, Signs and Symbols, Spirits, Undead, Water Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27439006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uthizaar/pseuds/Uthizaar
Summary: A quest. A curse. A journey.Fate has pulled Liam and Korey apart many times in their lives, and equally guided them back together again. Perhaps this time, in the frozen northlands, their interwoven destinies will reignite the flames of the passion that once burned between them...
Relationships: Corey Bryant/Liam Dunbar, Corey Bryant/Original Male Character, Liam Dunbar/Water
Series: The Cycle of Theodric [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/861800
Comments: 33
Kudos: 3





	1. Mountain Song

“The auguries are clear, the will of the gods, less so.” Theodric said as he cleaned his hands on a rag, wiping away the blood spilled from his reading of the animal’s entrails. He glanced at Fionn, the Chieftain of the Mountain Clan, as the old man leaned on Iordáin’s arm. “Tell me again of this dream.”

“I was younger, ahem.” He cleared his throat, the cough reaching into his lungs with a raspy cackle. “Argh, younger, yes. There was snow everywhere; it came up to my chest. We were down in the lowlands, near the river, I think.”

“Who was with you?”

“Myself, some hunters, and the clan’s tradesman. We were escorting him, I think. It is unclear, master darach, but I remember we came upon a traveler. Strange in dress and speech, but not in custom.” Fionn continued to speak, staring into the fire that leapt and danced in the wide hearth at the center of the stone house. “We greeted him as a friend and he looked at me, shards of ice as blue as the sky were his eyes, his beard was long and threaded through with silver, like icicles in the caves. He touched me on the arm, and it felt like winter’s sword cutting into my chest.”

“Ominous indeed.” Theodric muttered. He turned away and picked up a clay bowl, filling it with green herbs and adding spring water from a tall goblet as Fionn coughed again. “Anything else?”

“Yes,” The Chieftain accepted the bowl from the darach and began to drink the concoction. “After he touched me, we…travelled. That is the only way I can explain it; it was like being on the back of a bird, or so I imagine. We swooped low over the countryside, past the Divide, over the northern lands until we reached a mighty mountain that puts our own to shame. Its crown was whitest snow, thick forests guarded its flanks, and before it was a long line of our people walking towards the foothills.”

“Our people?” Iordáin asked, his expression turning into confusion as he took the bowl back from Fionn’s trembling hands. “Are you sure they were from our clan? The elders never claimed that we had kin in the north.”

“Alas, most were killed in the sickness that took our clan so long ago, many of the old stories died with them.” Fionn sighed and sat down when Theodric gestured for him to do so. “It came like a flood and drowned out over half of us; our darach was the first to go, the rest soon followed. The wrath of the mountain gods was fierce that day. But this dream…I feel in my heart that it is real, that it happened.”

“Hmm, what do you think, Theodric?” The hunter looked at him. “Is this dream a sign? Did the deer tell you anything?”

“I will have to speak to the gods and their most trusted envoy.” Theodric replied carefully. He avoided both of their hopeful looks and stood up slowly. “Samhain has come and gone, yet the spirit may still respond to my calls; he may not manifest if the veil is too strong, but I should be able to hear his counsel.”

“I understand.” Fionn nodded after a moment of silent thought. “If anyone would know the truth of such a dream, it would be the great and powerful druid who himself came from the north. Iordáin, will you help me back to the Mountain’s Heart, please? I feel the chill of the changing seasons so much more than I did before. The village feels…cold.”

“I would have come to you, Chieftain.” Theodric said as they all prepared to leave the stone house. 

“This I know, but I like to walk among our village and our people at least once a day. Well, I will do so until my body gives out and you must return me to the mountain.” Fionn smiled sadly when the two young men glanced at each other. “Do not worry, Theodric, Iordáin will make a fine Chieftain. And you will be there to guide him on godly matters just as our Master Smith is there to guide him on the mundane.”

“I do not think that Korey would call things such as the drilling of the well and building of new houses mundane.” Theodric laughed and the tension between them broke easily. “Did you not see him yesterday, ordering the workers to and fro with that golden cane of his?!”

“Haha, indeed,” Iordáin chuckled alongside him. “Oisín made it for him at the turn of the summer, I doubt it has left his hand since. His ‘divine rod’, I believe he calls it!”

“Ah, well, I would think that Oisín sees quite enough of Korey’s rod already.” Theodric managed to keep a straight face as the hunter laughed out loud and the Chieftain rolled his eyes at them. “I will leave you here and go up to the altar to pray to our gods for their guidance.”

“I will see you this evening, then.” Iordáin touched Theodric’s shoulder and nodded, guiding Fionn out of the howling wind and down the long tunnel that led into the roaring forge of the Mountain’s Heart.

“We only have a little time,” Korey said as he banked the fire, placing cut wood on top of the smoldering embers. “I have left the apprentices with the task of melting down the gold, but I do not-”

“Shush…” Oisín whispered softly, holding his finger up to his lips. The seriousness was broken a moment later by his youthful grin, blue eyes sparkling with mischief, a handsome contrast with his flaming red hair. “They will manage; all night you have been working on Iordáin’s bow! You need to rest, you need to sleep, you need to release the weight of worry!”

“Hmm.” Korey grunted, but didn’t resist when the other smith placed broad hands on his shoulders and steered him away from the hearth and towards the stone bed in the corner of the room. The hewn rock walls reached upwards and flattened out, smooth surfaces ending when they merged with the crevice that pulled the smoke from the fire out of the chamber and into one of the many tunnels that threaded through the mountain. He sat down on the edge of the bed as Oisín lit several of the tallow candles placed in alcoves around the room. “I can keep going, you know.”

“Of course; but you said you wanted to show them how to twist the gold into torcs. You need all your concentration for that.”

“Very well.” The master smith sighed and pushed off his cloak. “Will you at least wait with me?”

“You should sleep, I would only-” Oisín began, his words cutting off when Korey looked at him with a tilt of his head. “If you are sure…”

“I still find sleeping in here strange; secure certainly, but so often the only person I hear is you beside me.” Korey leaned back as Oisín knelt down to unlace his shoes for him. He caught the frown on the handsome youth’s face and chuckled. “Outcast I may have been in Scotti’s clan, but I still lived in the roundhouse with everyone else. So close together that some things became taken as the way of the world, although not every clan is like his.”

“True.” Oisín stood up and undid his own cloak, carefully pulling off the broach that tied it together and placing it next to one of the candles. “I have not heard you speak of the Guardian clan in many seasons.”

“Almost three Samhains have passed since…” Korey mumbled off into silence and glanced at Oisín’s understanding expression. “I may not speak his name, but every day I think of Stiles and the worth of his sacrifice. None of us would be alive today had it not been for his bravery, his foresight.”

“I look forward to hearing you and Iordáin retelling the great story again this evening.”

“Hah, for that, you are right, for that I _will_ need rest.” Korey climbed back into the bed and laid down. A thick pile of woolly fleeces removed any hardness from the stone bed and a thin layer of finely spun cloth stopped the sheepskin from itching against his skin. 

Oisín smiled and laid down behind him as Korey turned to face the wall, pulling their cloaks over their feet. The room was warm, and the fire crackled pleasantly against the wood, lulling them both to sleep even as Oisín moved closer and rested his head on Korey’s shoulder.

Korey blinked his eyes and he let his thoughts recede from the vivid dream that had played out under his eyelids. Mountains capped in snow and blue ice, battles fought between great heroes and terrible villains, druids calling on powers from beyond the veil as warriors of all stripes died in fountains of blood. He wetted his lips, mouth dry, and rolled onto his back. After another moment of waiting for the dream’s images to fully fade away, he reached across Oisín’s still sleeping body and carefully picked up the dull copper cup from the stool placed next to the bed. 

The water tasted sweet to his parched throat and Korey drank deeply, replacing the cup only when he felt Oisín stir against him. He looked down at the other smith, taking in his muscular form, the firelight turning his skin a burnished bronze, his hair a flaming red. The tunic he was wearing was one of the newer fashions traded from the far southern lands, as green as the leaves in high summer with a collar braided from silver thread. The sleeves were short, not merely leaving his forearms bare, but showing off the impressive strength in Oisín’s upper arms, earned from many days hammering in the forge. Korey pressed his lips together and let his gaze wander lazily up to Oisín’s face, a soft grunt of appreciation escaping from his throat. _Beauty unmatched, except when your eyes are open; glittering like the finest sapphires gifted by the gods._

“Mmh.” Oisín frowned as though feeling his gaze and rolled onto his side, facing away from him. Korey smiled to himself and placed a hand on Oisín’s shoulder. 

“The hour grows late, _mo chroí_ , we need to rise.”

“Ughhh, and leave the warmth?” Oisín protested with a groan. He turned onto his back again and yawned, stretching his arms up and over his head, muscles flexing and bunching as he did so. 

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to stay here with you forever, you know that.” Korey replied, leaning in to kiss his lips gently before sighing and slipping across him to get to his feet. “But Iordáin will need my help in recounting the epic. Besides, unless you want to dine on tallow and water, we should leave, they will be cooking your favorite stew this evening.”

“As usual, you make sense, but let me shave first.” The smith grumbled and then sat up, pushing off the furs so he could get up. “You go on ahead, I’ll find you in the forge.”

“Are you sure?”

“Heh, I know you want to check in on the gold smelters.” Oisín smirked as Korey shrugged and pulled on his cloak. “Go!”

“Yes, yes, I love you too.” Korey smiled and pushed open the wooden door that separated their room from the long tunnel outside. There were other homes built into the mountain along the mineshaft, for those who did not want to occupy the stone houses on the exterior plateau. Korey walked along the carved smooth passage, the darkness banished by sconces of burning tallow which cast out a warm orange glow over the stone ceiling and walls. He passed by the storage rooms where several of the clansmen were checking on their harvested provisions, a glimpse inside one such space revealed dozens of barrels stacked to the ceiling and large rounds of cheese placed on top of each other. 

As he came closer to the Mountain’s Heart, Korey could feel the heat pouring out from the forge at the center of the cave network. He passed through the vaulted archway of the antechamber and emerged into a world of fire and hammering. Since being appointed Master Smith of the clan, he had made several alterations to the forge, his decisions guided not by arrogance or a false sense of superiority, but rather by the whispered dreams of Goibniu, god of smithing. 

Great troughs of fire lined one wall, the burning charcoal from dozens of trees hauled up from the lowlands were sustained day and night by some mystical presence that even Theodric had problems identifying. The smelting of ore and failed tools took place among the flames, resulting in great waves of heat rushing over the smiths who honed their craft each day, becoming more and more accomplished. A massive anvil curved around the blazing embers and was big enough for a dozen smiths to hammer on at once. In the center of the forge, another great anvil had been placed, its horns thinner and the flat surfaces wider, a place for crafting delicate rings and torcs, as well as engravings and carvings on weapons and shields. Along the other walls were the racks and stands for completed weapons, armor, tools, and jewelry, interspaced with places for polishing and finishing the crafts made in the forge. 

Korey walked over to where an iron pot was resting in the flames, its blackish hue turned red-hot as the gold inside melted and heated to a pure golden liquid. He gestured at the shirtless apprentices nearby, their smooth torsos gleaming with sweat from the proximity to the roaring forge. “Lift it out and let us see if you have followed my instructions.” Korey ordered as they lifted up long poles with a hook on the end and reached into the fire. “Good, good. Now pay attention…”

There was almost no wind to shake the trees and rob them of their leaves, the last of which stubbornly clung on despite the cold that invaded the air. As Liam finished practicing his sword and shield techniques for the afternoon, he felt that chill penetrate his skin and touch against his bones like a spear of pain. He pulled his leather tunic back on, wincing slightly when the rough interior rubbed against his cold stiffened nipples. Sheathing his sword and passing it through the straps of his shield, he then swung the entire thing over his shoulder and attached it securely to the back of his tunic.

Liam made his way back to the village, kicking his feet through the dry waves of oak leaves that had fallen the day before during a gusty storm. He arrived at the outskirts, passing through the barrier that they had built the previous season and into the village proper. It was subdued, the other members of the clan walking around without making eye contact with him or anyone else, their arms full of empty baskets or fishing spears. 

Liam kept going until he reached Íosác’s roundhouse, built as it was into the side of a particularly tall tree. The roots spilled out across the rest of the village, providing walls and shelter for other houses, as streams ran along natural channels, feeding into the wide river at the edge of the village. The sides of the roundhouse were normally open, but screens of woven reeds had been placed along the openings, leaving only a single entrance point for people to go in and out.

He placed his sword and shield at the entrance to the roundhouse and then stepped inside, waiting a moment for his eyes to adjust to the smoky interior. In contrast to the chill outside, it was much warmer in here, perhaps as hot as a summer’s day. Íosác, the River Clan chieftain, was sitting next to the roaring fire, clad in a long trailing cloak that he had gathered around himself. Liam walked over to him, stopping in front of the fire to warm his hands before he sat down. “Greetings.”

“Liam.” Íosác grunted, his gaze staring deep into the orange and red flames. “How was your training?”

“The same as ever, although I wish more of our warriors would join me.”

“That would be a sight!” Íosác smiled briefly at him. “I do enjoy the spectacle of shirtless men clashing with their swords!”

“Indeed,” Liam smirked before his expression became more serious. “Has there been any change to the…?”

“Change? No.” Íosác sighed. “The Elders do not understand it: the fish no longer come to our nets, they avoid our spears as though they can see the weapons coming, no matter how silent and careful our hunters are. The gatherers report the same problems; fruit that looks perfect on the branch turns rotten as soon as they touch it. And I need not tell you of the weather outside! For seasons beyond counting, we have had perfect summer and spring heat even in the harshest of winter days outside the village.”

“So, we are cursed.” Liam muttered as Íosác nodded and then shivered. “Do you know what or who is causing it?”

“I do not know.” Íosác bit his lip and shrugged. “But the oldest of our Elders has entered the Grove of Boann, our patron goddess. If my fears are correct, we will know-” There was a commotion outside the roundhouse and both Liam and Íosác stood up. “Come, let us see if Cethlenn has returned.”

“I am almost certain that she has.” Liam muttered as he followed the Chieftain away from the heat and comfort of the fire. They emerged into the overcast day and were greeted immediately by a blast of frigid air that blew Íosác’s cloak away from his otherwise naked body. 

“Yahh!” He shivered and bundled himself back up, glaring accusingly at the sky. “Curses!”

“Chieftain!” Cethlenn called out from where she was standing at the end of one of their jetties, her silver hair plastered to her head, her entire body and clothes drenched in water that was so cold it was already starting to freeze and turn to icicles. She pointed directly at them, shivering violently. “Boann sends a message to you, Chieftain! You have displeased the gods! Too long have you ignored the call of the River, too long have you assumed the blessings of the gods because of your ancestors’ actions! It has been seasons beyond counting since Boann has received a gift of power in exchange for her protection!”

“Oh no.” Liam muttered and carefully took a step away from Íosác in case the gods were feeling murderous and not particularly accurate with their wrath. “What is Cethlenn speaking of?”

“Something we used to do.” Íosác replied as Cethlenn sagged and then fell slowly forward. He gestured at two nearby fishermen. “Carry her back to the Elders’ roundhouse, make sure she is warmed up and take those wet clothes from her. The rest of you…return to your duties, I must, uh, consider this warning.”

“What is to consider, Chieftain?” One of the men nearest him spoke up. “It is clear that we must make the journey to Lough Barg and collect the moonstones.”

“Aye,” Called out another fisherman. “Let us send a group into the mountains to gather the offering and deliver it to the place where the river rises. Only then will this curse be lifted!”

“Our food stocks dwindle by the day, Chieftain!” A woman on his left glared at Íosác. “For three days, I have not had fish, my children ate the last of our bread this morning. We have to appease Boann before it is too late!”

“If nothing else, Chieftain,” A warrior leaned on his spear and looked at them wearily. “We must see the return of favorable weather: we have no winter clothes and little fuel to keep us warm. It is hard enough to live in such conditions, never mind express the joy and pleasure of our bodies!”

“I…” Íosác started and then nodded resignedly. “Yes, yes, you are right, my friends. But the journey is long and perilous. It has not been attempted since before my grandfather’s time, the northlands have changed much since then, we must choose wisely who to entrust this quest to.”

“You cannot go, Chieftain.” Another elderly woman spoke up, leaning on a young man’s arm for support. “If the river goddess has demanded this offering be made, you must remain here to appease her spirit in its many physical forms. As must we all!”

“I know this.” Íosác nodded again. “It will take the entire clan and many, many days to pleasure the spirit and ensure that those who go have enough time to complete their quest. We can send no more than three warriors, the others will have to take part in the ritual.”

“I can go.” Liam said as thoughtful silence descended on the clan. “I can even go alone, the northlands do not frighten me.”

“It will be dangerous, young one.” The woman said to him. “Not merely the remains of Findabair’s armies which roam the lands, but the mountains themselves are treacherous and the moonstones hard to find.”

“He is a strong warrior, Niamh,” Íosác replied with confidence. “I place my trust in Liam and know he will not fail us.”

“I will need to know where to go and what these gems look like.” Liam said as he looked around the village and saw the nods and smiles directed at him. “And then I can set out tomorrow morning.”

“It is agreed.” Íosác declared, placing his arm around Liam’s back and guiding him towards his roundhouse again. He lowered his voice and placed his other hand on his rapidly hardening cock. “You will be gone for a long time, my friend, and while I must save my vigor for pleasing the river spirit, you do not need to.”

“Ah,” Liam smirked. “You want me to provide you one last practice with my sword before I depart?!”

“Yes, thrust deep!” Íosác’s eyes twinkled eagerly. “Thrust hard! Thrust often! I will bring a few of the others you favorite and you can leave us full of energy and essence!”

A storm howled against the mountain and ripped through the stone houses perched on the plateau, whipping up the smoke streaming from openings into the deluge of rain that battered against the gravel paths. Theodric kept his head bowed as he made his way through the tempest towards the entrance tunnel that led into the safety of the mountain. Chips of ice swirled around him and a quick glance up at the high peaks above him confirmed that the first of winter’s frost had already settled in. He shivered and pulled his hood tighter over his head, paying no heed to the wind as it grabbed his cloak and tugged it away from his robes.

Inside the tunnel, he took a respite, resting one hand against the warm stone. “Hmm, the forge must be burning white hot to heat the very rock of the mountain.” Theodric continued on his way, passing through the antechambers and armories, and then into the mighty forge itself. The air was searing hot and flames leapt up from the charcoal that burned in the deep troughs placed around the forge’s walls. He paused for a moment to inspect the newly crafted torcs and rings placed on the stone plinth under the hammer of Goibniu. “Hmm, Korey’s work, excellent as ever.”

Theodric pushed open one of the heavy wooden doors that led out of the forge and into the large, round room that acted as the common area for the clan, the Mountain’s Heart. A fire burned in a pit at the center, while a metal frame sat over it, cooking pots and spits for roasting meat and fish attached with hooks and notches. Around the fire were carved benches and comfortable seats arranged so that every member of the clan could access the food and receive heat. Fionn sat in a large carved chair closest to the fire, covered in animal fleeces and cradling a goblet of mead in his hands. He noticed Theodric approaching and gestured for the darach to join him.

Korey and Iordáin were in the middle of the great saga of the Cycle of the Gods’ Chosen, retelling the story of Stiles’ victory over the dread sorcerer Findabair and the liberation of the clans of the southlands. Theodric circled the gathered clan members so as not to disturb them and reached Fionn, taking the empty chair next to him, reserved for the darach of the clan. “My thanks.”

“You missed the beginning of the tale, but there is still meat in the pot.” Fionn said to him, his voice low as Korey re-enacted the curse of endless winter. “Not that you need reminding of what happened, of course.”

“Hmm,” Theodric nodded and reached out to ladle the stew into a bowl for himself. “I have consulted the auguries and listened to the winds of the mountain.”

“They are loud this evening, the first winter’s storm.”

“Indeed,” Theodric settled back into his chair. “I also received guidance from those who no longer walk among us. It seems your dream was more than just idle thought.”

Fionn glanced at him and arched a brow. “Truly? All of it?”

“Usually it is difficult to determine what the spirits or the gods desire, but this time their meaning is clear.” Theodric paused to smile when Korey glanced his way, knowing that they were approaching the part of the story that would incite the strongest reaction from the gathered smiths. “There is a clan to the far north, those who live among the tall icy mountains-the ones that appear hazy and blue from the Divide. You can just glimpse them on a clear day.”

“I know the ones you speak of.” Fionn nodded and took a sip from his goblet, coughing as the mead went down uneasily. “Ach, I am fine, this illness drags on. But yes, you can also see those mountains from here: up on the tallest peak, on the finest summer’s morning. Is that mountain clan kin to us?”

“Perhaps, the spirits were unclear, just that we must go to these mountains and find the answers.” Theodric finished eating and set the bowl on the edge of the fire as angry grumbles and furious muttering broke out among the clan. He glanced at Fionn and smiled ruefully. “They have heard this saga twice already, most were even there! And yet they still gnash their teeth in frustration and offense whenever Korey tells of his capture by Scotti.”

“It was a grave offense,” Fionn remarked. “Had the druid not been with you to calm tempers and avoid bloodshed, there would have been a terrible battle that day and Findabair would have won. Easy to see such things now, but I do not grudge them their feelings.”

“As you say.” Theodric leaned back again. “I will listen to the remainder of the tale, ensure that they tell my part right!”

“Haha, and what of this quest? Who is to seek out the northern clan?”

“I do not know,” Theodric refilled Fionn’s goblet and then his own before answering. “The mountain spirits are to deliver a sign to one of us; they shall be chosen and go forth.”

“Hmm.” Fionn waved him into silence when Theodric made to continue. “Quiet now, the battle will soon be upon us and Korey tells the tale like no other I have heard before: glory, excitement, heartbreak, victory!”

“Korey! Korey!” Oisín’s low voice roused him from a deep sleep in what felt like the early morning. “Korey!”

“What?” He rolled over and raised his head in response to the repeated calls of his name and the prodding at his ribs. But any irritability was instantly whipped away when Korey’s bleary eyes fell on the ghostly figure sitting on the chair across from the bed. “Oh, uh.”

“What do we do? Will I get Theodric?”

“It-he- is between us and the door.” Korey replied slowly, throwing off the blankets and climbing over Oisín to sit on the edge of the stone bed, his lover retreating behind him. He glanced at the golden rod that was propped up next to the wall and then looked over at the figure, watching as some of the features became clearer. 

The ethereal man stood up slowly and approached them, his clothes resolving into those of a smith, a hammer hanging by his side. Golden torcs adorned his arms and neck and he brought up his hands to chest level, cupping them together as though he was about to take a drink of water from the stream. However, in the space of a few breaths, a tiny mountain appeared in the man’s hands, looking exactly like what Theodric had described to them the evening before.

“Korey?” Oisín poked his side again, peeping over his shoulder. “What is he doing?”

“I, uh, I.” Korey stammered, watching as the ghostly smith released the mountain and it floated on air. The figure pointed directly at him and then abruptly faded away soundlessly, the image of the mountain vanishing shortly afterwards. “Oh.”

“I hope you have something more to say!”

“Theodric, last night, after you had gone to bed, he gathered the senior members of the clan and told us that Fionn’s recurring dreams are not simply dreams.” Korey explained as he stood up and began to dress quickly. “He said that there is another clan in the mountains of the far northlands, beyond the Divide. That they were once us, or we were once them. Someone is to go and reunite the clans.”

“And this someone is…?”

“Theodric didn’t say, only that a sign would be revealed to that person.” Korey gestured at the spot where the apparition had appeared. “I would say that was the sign!”

“Very well.” Oisín nodded and climbed off the bed. “I will join you.”

“You don’t have to.” Korey pulled on his boots and walked back over to rest his hands on Oisín’s shoulders. “The journey will be dangerous, it will be cold, and arduous, and-”

“It seems to me that is _why_ you need me to go with you.” Oisín said determinedly and smirked. “You find the clan, I can watch your back. Besides, it’ll be an adventure!”

Korey just sighed and reached past him for his cloak, swinging it around his shoulders and fastening it with an ornate broach Oisín had crafted for him the winter before. He nodded and then turned towards the door. “Very well, let me speak to Theodric and see if this…sign is sufficient for him.”

“I will start preparing for our journey then.” Oisín grinned at him and crossed the room to kiss Korey’s cheek before stepping back. “See you outside.”

“Hmm.” Theodric grunted as he considered Korey’s words, the presence of the specter in his chamber this morning was likely the sign they had been waiting for. He glanced at Fionn sitting next to him, the Chieftain leaning in towards the heat of the fire in the Mountain’s Heart. Iordáin stood on his other side, nodding along as Korey finished his description of the incident. “I see, you say he held a mountain in his hands.”

“Do you think it means that I must go north?” Korey asked, one hand on the flat surface of his smithing hammer hanging through a loop in his belt. “There is still much to be done-”

“It is winter,” Fionn spoke up, clearing his throat. “While it is a good time to repair tools and craft new weapons and armor, or focus on the training of the younger smiths, there is not so much to be done as you think. Soon I will be joining my ancestors and noble departed friends in the Otherworld.”

“No, that’s-”

“Not yet!”

“Enough.” Fionn raised a hand as Iordáin and Korey protested his words, Theodric remaining tactfully silent. “I can feel it in my bones, in my chest, a season longer, perhaps two if the gods are generous. Much of this clan has been lost in my lifetime, even with the survivors accepted from the northern clans, we remain the smallest of those in the Alliance.”

“Fionn speaks the truth, on a great many things.” Theodric said, tucking his hands into the opposite sleeves of his long robes. “You have been chosen, Korey, you and Oisín both. You are to cross the Divide, follow the great river to where it rises and climb the mountains that you find there.”

“And then?” Korey wetted his lips nervously. “I would not know what to say to the other clan even if we do find them.”

“Trust in yourself, Master Smith.” Fionn advised. “The words will come, and if they do not, I will give you a gift to bring to the other clan; a symbol of our shared heritage.”

“Come,” Iordáin gestured at him. “I will help you prepare what you need to take, I have gone on many long ranges in the winter season before.”

“Thank you.”

Theodric watched Korey and the hunter leave before he turned to Fionn. “I am unsure about this course of action.”

“Are you afraid for him?”

“No.” The darach frowned into fire. “It is the absence of any emotion that concerns me.”

The morning sun fell hazily through the high clouds that were scattered above them as Korey and Oisín began walking down the path that led away from the village. Their friends and clan had gathered at the edge of the plateau to watch them leave and bid them farewell. Korey adjusted the straps of his bag slung over one shoulder and glanced at Oisín, “So, an adventure, huh?”

“I haven’t been more than a day from the mountain before,” Oisín grinned at him. “I am eager to see what the world has in store for us! And all the people we might meet!”


	2. The Meeting at the Divide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm uploading this unedited as I need to go to work earlier than usual and I'll edit it tomorrow, so sorry for any mistakes! But I also wanted to get the chapter out before November closed. Hope to update more frequently during December!

Liam tightened the cloak around his shoulders, held fast with an old copper pin and disc that Korey had made for him many seasons before, back when they lived in the same village. He rarely had need for warmer clothes since joining the River Clan, and so his cloak and the clasp had been stored away along with his heavy leather jerkin and woolen trousers. Now, however, as he trudged through the fallen leaves, he was glad he had kept them.

A bitter wind had come down from the distant mountains, accompanied by grey clouds and patchy drizzle. Liam had mostly been able to stay dry as he walked through the forest, keeping the great river on his right to act as his guide. Íosác had provided him with general directions to get to the northern mountains but was himself unsure of the exact location of the sacred gemstones he needed to acquire to offer at the source of the river. Liam was uneasy about not having the exact details needed to complete the quest, but some of the village elders had reassured him that Boann would appear to guide him further.

He placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, his shield already slung over his back, provisions in a sack at his other side. Liam hadn’t travelled very far from the village since his last quest to go to the great shores further west, where he had met Korey and Iordáin several seasons before. This time, however, he was venturing out alone, his warrior skills refined, if untested. Not that he feared he would have to defend himself, the road from the northlands ran through the Divide, a causeway of raised earth and stone with marshy land prone to flooding on either side. The isolationist clan of Lidia resided nearby, hidden behind their tall walls and sharpened wooden stakes. Liam was eager to avoid any contact with them and the strange magic of their chieftain; rumors of how she stole the minds and desires of her people. They did not venture out very often, he had heard, and so the other clans of the southlands had not taken action to stop her.

Liam paused next to a tall stump of an oak tree that had fallen in a recent storm, the wood broken and splintered, and the tree trunk having fallen across the road to the south. He was at the very edges of the Guardians of the Nemeton clan’s territory now, the journey from Íosác’s village taking half a day. The forest petered out and became wild scrubland and marshy bogs covered in grasses and heathers during the summer season, but now was bleak and barren. The river carved a path through it over black rock and gravelly shore, winding its way south towards the great ocean. He could see a way to follow it back to where it had come from, but the going would be muddy and difficult. 

The warrior had the makings of a tent in his travel sack: sturdy sticks for support, his cloak for shelter, and a woolen blanket for warmth. He had the knowledge of how to make a flame and supplies enough to last a few days, but the thought of getting soaked in cold marsh water made him shiver and remember enviously the days of endless summer heat that were the normal way of things in his adopted village. Liam sighed and prepared to walk on, keeping to his bearing and continuing cross-country.

If he had taken the path as it forded the river, he would have eventually arrived outside the village of his ancestors, the place he once called home. Liam was sure that Scotti, the Chieftain there, would welcome him with open arms, rejoicing at the return of a brother, a lover, a friend he had not seen in many long seasons since the Great Battle. But Liam’s quest was vital, and he could not dally among pleasant memories, even if he felt a stirring among his underclothes for a taste of Scotti’s chieftain cream, a chance to once more ride the stallion of his former ruler…

“Perhaps on my return.” Liam mused aloud to himself and reached a hand inside to adjust his hardness. His fingers were cold, and he flinched. “Ah! But I am sure he would greet me with warmth, despite the long seasons of our absence. His madness almost destroyed us all, and yet none of us would have survived Findabair’s coming if he had not rallied the clans and fought her warriors in battle.” He trudged onwards, climbing up embankments and striding across the yellowed grass, burned by recent heavy frosts. “And I would like to see the Nemeton again, feel the presence of Stiles, perhaps.”

Liam glanced up as he saw the mountains come into sharper relief than when he had been enclosed by the forest. They were still purple in the distance, devoid of any stark features, crowned in low clouds that foretold more rain in the hours before darkness fell. Liam was at the tallest point of the plain, able to turn south and see where the road folded back into the forest, rotating again to look back the way he came, and then to the east, seeing the faintest wisps of smoke coming from Scotti’s village. Facing north again, Liam could see the valley where the Divide was located, his eyes tracing back along the river to where it ducked into an underground cave, hidden from view until he emerged into the northlands.

“Hmm, there is a path that I recall leads from the Divide along the foothills and towards the Mountain Clan.” Liam said aloud, reaching out with his finger to trace the passage against the landscape. “If I go northwest, keep the sun on my left, then I should get there after midday. I can take the path until it joins with the road from Scotti’s village, both continuing across the Divide.” He rolled his shoulders, unused to carrying his shield for so long a time. “I’ll stop for something to eat when I get across this bog. Onwards!”

“At least it has stopped raining,” Oisín said, poking his head out from the heavy woolen cloaks they had used to shield themselves from the torrent. “My brother would have said that it was good luck; the mountain spirits blessing us with their essence!”

“Hmph.” Korey grunted and paused to fold his cloak back into their travelling sacks. “I only wish their essence wasn’t so cold!”

“Haha, yes, I think he would have agreed with you there.” The red-haired smith looked around. “This is the path that leads to the Divide, is it not?”

“Indeed, we should follow it north along the foothills and through the forest,” Korey explained, straightening up and slinging the sack over his head, letting the cords bunch across his muscular chest, holding the bag in place. They were both dressed in sheets of travelling linen from the southlands and heavier layers of wool to keep out wind, rain, and cold, both used to the frigid weather on their mountain home. “I intend that we get to the Divide after midday and through to the Alliance outpost beyond before sunset.”

“I thought that was abandoned last spring?”

“It was, but the shelters should still be there,” Korey replied, gesturing for them to resume their fast pace. “We will need the protection from the elements. As I recall, there is very little cover once we are through the Divide: the forest ends just before the Plains of Cooley, and that is not a place we should get stuck in after night falls.”

“Truly? I have heard tales that it is haunted.” Oisín grinned adventurously at him. “You do not wish to see the place again?”

“It is not a happy place, even if Findabair was confronted and defeated there.” Korey said after considering the question. “But I admit, I am somewhat interested in seeing it again, we may divert to go to the place where Stiles fell. It is only fitting that we honor him as we pass.”

“Of course, I did not mean-”

“I know, _mo chroí_ , do not concern yourself with it.” Korey smiled sadly at him. “You were not at the battle, as I remember.”

“No, the Chieftain said I was still too young to fight, but he left some weapons so that we could defend ourselves and the elders if…” Oisín paused, glancing at Korey uneasily. “If he should fall in battle and the Alliance fail.”

“I think Fionn still has many seasons left.” Korey said reassuringly, placing a gloved hand on Oisín’s shoulder. “With Iordáin to defend the clan and Theodric to keep him healthy, it will be alright.”

“He is like a father to us all, all the children that survived after the sickness. It took our parents, my brother, I am afraid of the day he too passes.”

“I will be here for you, Oisín, and we will make our own family.” Korey smiled at him and then gestured ahead of them. “We are about to emerge from the forest now, the Divide is not too far ahead.”

“Will we be stopping at the village there?” Oisín asked as he hurriedly wiped tears from his eyes. “Aren’t they a part of the Alliance?”

“They are, our steadfast allies, even if they have some…strange practices.” Korey replied, frowning as he caught sight of a lone figure some distance ahead of them, also walking towards the Divide. The figure had a shield on his back, the metal disc at its center reflected the dim light from the sun back at them. But the smith dismissed the man and continued speaking. “Lidia, Chieftain of the Keepers of the Divide, will insist that we stay for three days of feasting and indulgence, and in doing so we would forge the bonds of friendship deeper than before.”

“That sounds fun!”

“Oh, indeed, they are the fairest clan in the land.” Korey smirked as his gaze met Oisín’s. “But alas, we do not have the time on our way through the Divide, on our return, if we do not have emissaries of our lost brethren, then yes, we will stop at the village.”

“Hmm, do you see that man ahead of us?” Oisín asked, pointing as the figure crested a hill and disappeared over it.

“I do, but he appears to be alone.” Korey shrugged and patted his hefty war hammer strapped to the side of his waist. “Perhaps an adventurer or roaming warrior, he will meet a swift and painful end if he tries to cross us.”

“Haha, I will stay alert if he tries anything.” Oisín said determinedly, his hand on his own weapons: a pair of smithing hammers with carved bone handles and square, heavy iron heads. “It is hardly the best time to be wandering the land with winter only days away.”

“Agreed, but let’s pick up the pace.” Korey replied, increasing his speed as Oisín fell into step alongside him.

Liam stopped to take a drink from his waterskin and leaned on a fence post that protected travelers from falling into the marshy water on either side of the Divide’s causeway. He was just past the pathway that led towards the village, aware of the many eyes that were watching him from atop its tall walls. Liam pushed the stopper back in and advanced further down the road, looking across the trees that covered the short valley beyond towards the place where the river came back into view. “Hmm, I can follow that for a while longer, as I remember it, the river doesn’t come close to the Plain of Cooley, so it must flow from the north in another direction…” He trailed off when he heard the sound of footsteps coming up behind him, no doubt the two travellers he had spotted some hours back.

The warrior turned around to see who they were and assure them that he was not a bandit intent on attacking them. Liam froze in place when he recognized the black-haired man striding towards them, his voice equally restricted as he tried to speak. _Korey!_ The smith’s eyes widened slightly as he and his fellow approached, but other than that brief flare of recognition, Korey continued walking as though Liam was just another fence post. 

“Korey!” Liam managed after clearing his throat. “Wait! It’s me! It’s Liam.”

The smith stopped and lifted his head up, his companion looking back at Liam in confusion. After a moment of tense silence, Korey grunted and turned around. “Yes, I can see that.”

“Uh, greetings!” Liam grinned awkwardly. “Of all the places to find you!”

“Indeed, the Divide is among the last places in this world I expected to see you again, Liam.” Korey replied guardedly. He gestured at the red-haired youth at his side. “This is Oisín, my fellow smith and…”

“Uh, yes, of course, I understand.” Liam flushed as they both looked at each other. “You look, uh, great.”

“You appear tired, pale, are you unwell?” Korey asked, his brows furrowed together. “But what brings you out from the enchanted forests of the River Clan? You are far indeed from their village.”

“We are cursed.”

“Ah, another curse befalls you.” Korey smiled thinly as Oisín took a step back, one hand resting on his hammer. “What manner of disaster is it this time?”

“The river goddess, Boann, is displeased, apparently Íosác has been judged lacking in his appeasement of her needs.” Liam explained as Oisín nodded along and Korey hummed under his breath. “I am on a quest to find the source of the great river and offer a gift of sacred moonstones from the mountains nearby.”

“Hard to imagine Íosác not taking such a responsibility to heart, especially as he seemed to enjoy all things pleasurable.” Korey smirked as Liam nodded and looked away. “North, you say?”

“Yes, are you travelling that direction also?”

“To the northern mountains, yes.” Korey replied with a curt nod. “Not for so dire a purpose as your own, however, our quest is to find our kin from the Mountain Clan, if indeed they still live.”

“Hmm, a perilous quest in these harsh days.” Liam shivered and pulled his cloak tighter around his body, the lingering heat from his exertion draining away rapidly. He frowned when the two smiths exchanged a glance and burst into laughter. “What?”

“You find this weather harsh?!” Oisín barked. “No, river dweller, this is like a fine spring morning; crisp enough to waken you, but still quite warm.”

“The mountain snows are deep and cold, Liam.” Korey said, a smile playing around his lips. “The northlands are not known to be forgiving to those unused to winter’s bite. But I see that night’s veil fast approaches and we are not through the Divide yet, Oisín.”

“Agreed, we must be away.” The red-haired smith nodded at Liam. “May the gods bless your travels, river dweller, you will surely need their protection in the days ahead.”

“Farewell, Liam.”

“Wait,” He called out as Korey and Oisín made to resume their journey. “Could we not travel together? I am a strong warrior, it would be safer, no?”

“Safer for you, I think, not us.” Korey replied, his tone hard to decipher. He glanced at Oisín and the two seemed to be in silent conference. After a moment, Korey sighed and nodded. “Very well, Liam, you may travel with us, at least until we reach the Alliance outpost beyond the forest.”

“And then?”

“We will make camp in the ruins there, rest for the night.” Korey said, gesturing for Liam to fall into step alongside them. “In the morning, our paths may diverge. I wish to honor the site of Stiles’ fall along the Cliffs of Cooley, but it sounds as though your quest is somewhat more urgent.”

“Yes, but I would be glad to share a fire with you, uh, both.” He added hastily when Oisín arched a brow at him. “We can exchange news from our clans, perhaps strengthen our bonds once again.”

“Perhaps.” Korey replied uncommittedly. “Come, we must hurry through the forest before daylight fades to embers.”

Liam just smiled and followed him across the Divide and into the frozen north, tendrils of his old desire unfurling within his chest as he studied Korey’s much more developed and muscular form than the last time they had come face to face. _And just think of what it all looks like under those layers! His companion is equally handsome, if less strong in the arm and chest, I wouldn’t say no to becoming the heated metal between their two hammers!_

“Come along, river dweller,” Oisín called out, waving at him. “We will leave you behind otherwise.”

“Of course, got lost in my thoughts.” Liam grinned at the fiery-haired youth and caught up with them, the trio entering the gloomy forest as the sun began to slide down the sky to its pearl grey tomb.


	3. Among the Ruins of the Past

The winter sun was setting by the time they emerged from the eerie, still forest and onto the ridge that overlooked the vast Plains of Cooley. Korey gestured at a well worn path that skirted the edge of the battlefield and would bring them around to a hill on the other side where a small fortress had been constructed the spring after Findabair’s defeat. While it had once seen use as the Alliance clans maintained a watch on the northlands, it had since fallen into disrepair after the fracturing of the Alliance itself.

They hadn’t spoken much during the passing, Korey taking the lead and Oisín only giving one word replies to Liam, when he spoke at all. The warrior was beginning to regret asking to join up on their journeys, ill at ease among them. But that changed when Korey gestured for Oisín to take the lead and he fell back to walk beside Liam. The warrior glanced at him hopefully but remained silent.

“I recognize that brooch, the clasp around your cloak.” Korey smiled briefly. “Fine craftsmanship, if I do say so myself.”

“Well, you did make it for me, quite a while ago now.” Liam replied, tugging down his cloak so he could see the patterned gold ring. “There is not much need for cloaks among the River Clan, at least, not usually.”

“Hmm.”

“But I kept it, uh,” Liam paused when Korey frowned and pursed his lips, his expression flickering between confusion and what Liam thought could be anger. “Not for any particular purpose.”

“Oh?”

“It’s just a bauble, nothing-”

“Of course.” Korey replied icily and marched ahead to join Oisín.

 _Gods! That was the wrong thing to say! Why did I do that?!_ Liam glared at the ground and shook his head. Searching for some way to resume their conversation, he increased his speed until they were walking three-abreast. Liam glanced to his left and jumped when he saw movement near the center of the plain. “Look!”

“Shush!” Korey hissed at him. “Do you want to draw them to us?”

“Them what?”

“Undead.” The smith gestured vaguely at the battlefield. “They gather in the middle of the field, feeding on the magic that was discharged by Stiles and Findabair during the summoning. Theodric says there is still some left over, said that it floats in the air, attracting dark things.”

“Creepy.” Liam shuddered, placing a hand on his sword’s hilt. “How do you know about it?”

“Theodric met the druids and darachs of the other clans here a few summers ago, they sealed away much of the magic and dealt with the lingering spirits and wraiths.” Korey explained as they began to climb up the hill. “I guess no one has come back to make sure the spirits stayed on the other side and that the undead weren’t gathering.”

“Hmm, I never heard of anything like that.”

“Of course not, why would you?” Korey shrugged, no heat in his voice. “The River Clan doesn’t have a druid or darach, that must be strange.”

“They-we-have a simple solution for that!” Liam grinned and winked at him, but only the corners of Korey’s lips twitched upwards. “Íosác never really talked about the Alliance after we came back from the war, now that I think about it.”

“It was meant to be temporary, true.” Korey said as Oisín raced ahead to check out the half fallen tower and rotting palisade that comprised the fort. “But Fionn and Lidia struck an agreement: with the curse lifted from her people, she was happy to renew the treaty between the two clans of the mountain, one at the foot and one at the peak. Trade, defense, shelter for travelers.”

“Hmm, what about Scotti?” Liam asked, stopping next to Korey as they waited for Oisín to inspect the outpost. “You seem to know a lot more than I do about the lay of the land. I haven’t seen Scotti since, err, we laid Stiles to rest.”

“That long?” Korey arched a brow in surprise. “I would have thought…no matter. The last I heard from our trader is that Scotti has taken a step back-he’s still chieftain, but Malia all but rules the clan. It’s for the best, I think, besides, Scotti’s children are getting old enough for him to teach them useful things.”

“But they are no longer part of the Alliance.”

“No, neither are the twins from the far southern clan.” Korey tapped the ornately decorated head of his hammer thoughtfully. “If our quest were not blessed by the gods themselves, I would say that Fionn and Theodric both want to find new allies, new strength.”

“It sounds as though they’re preparing for something.” Liam replied, his brows furrowed in concern. “The Mountain Clan was once the most feared and dangerous of the clans south of the Divide, at least, that is what the elders of my, uh, the River Clan say.”

“Haha!” Korey laughed and shook his head, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “You keep doing that! You keep saying their name rather than claim membership, but do not forget, Liam, I know you. I know that you can be loyal, especially to a chieftain. Why else would you be undertaking this quest for them?”

“I…”

“It is clear!” Oisín’s voice echoed out through the broken fence. “Come on, let us make camp before the sun sets completely!”

“Hmm.” Korey smirked and nodded again, before turning away from Liam. 

“There’s not much left,” Oisín said as he and Korey picked through the piles of dusty wood and cloth that had been dumped inside the collapsed tower. “But at least we will have shelter from the wind in here.”

“Agreed.” Korey nodded and straightened up. “We should put the fire…here, the crack in the wall will take the smoke away without giving up our position.”

“Mmh.” Oisín started to gather the wood, breaking longer pieces across his knee with satisfying cracks. “I can set the fire.”

“Very well, I will ask Liam what supplies he brought with him,” Korey replied, pausing next to Oisín. He placed a hand on the youth’s shoulder and looked at him. “Are you upset that he joined us?”

“Not _upset_ , it makes sense to travel with companions, and we are going the in the same direction, for now, anyway.” Oisín dropped the bundle of wood and met Korey’s gaze. “But I am uneasy around him: we both know who he is, what he has done, I do not think that he should be so friendly towards you. It is as if he has forgotten what happened during his first clan’s curse!”

“Ah, so that is it.” Korey smiled briefly and squeezed Oisín’s shoulder reassuringly. “Do not worry, I do not believe that Liam means us harm-you or me. He made the wrong decisions during that time, not out of malice, but rather…carelessness.”

“Hmm.” Oisín grunted, unconvinced. “I will still sleep with one hand on my hammer!”

“Heh, it may be wise to take turns on watch in any case.” Korey replied and placed a hand on the broad head of his war hammer. “These are unsafe lands, we do not know what or who might be out there.”

“Agreed.” Oisín nodded and then brightened up a little when Korey leaned in and kissed him. “I will start this fire, you talk to the river dweller.”

“Even if I spend a hundred years on the mountain, I do not think I will ever understand that insult!”

“Hah. On the mountain, the rocks are hard and strong,” Oisín explained as he crouched down and pulled out a flint box. He placed bits of the driest cloth at the center of the stack of wooden sticks and then took out the flints, preparing to strike them against each other. “But when rocks are washed downstream in the river, they become smooth and harmless, losing their points until they are eroded completely.”

“Ah, so those in the River Clan are soft; you no longer see them as warriors.” Korey nodded slowly. _And the Mountain Clan pride strength and tenacity above all else, of course._ “Yes, I can see that now. I will return in a little while, Oisín.”

“I will be here.” He grunted in satisfaction when sparks ignited from the flints and caught on the fabric. “Yes!”

He found Liam standing on a raised platform located behind the part of the palisade still intact, the warrior staring out at the landscape as the sun set amongst a smattering of white and yellow clouds. Korey climbed up onto the gantry as the wood began to creak ominously. “Huh.”

“You are travelling quite heavy after all,” Liam chuckled at him. “I would say it is extra weight, but the cut of your jaw tells me it is likely muscle instead of fat!”

“Well that’s one way to flatter an old friend.” Korey glared at him as Liam rolled his eyes dramatically. “I am wearing iron armor under my cloak, we both are, but Oisín is more lean anyway.”

“And you like that?” Liam asked, his eyes twinkling in the twilight.

“His arms are strong, his chest is hard, I like his red hair.” Korey replied after a moment’s thought. “But it is not his body alone that attracted me to him; he is kind and honest, and he has not yet seen the horrors of war.”

“Ah.” Liam nodded and directed his gaze towards the Plains of Cooley. There was a flicker of greenish light across the battlefield, an unworldly glow of passing spirits, and the movement of black things against the setting sun. “I-”

“But I did not come out here to talk of Oisín,” Korey interrupted him. “We have decided to make camp for the night in the tower; the stone walls will keep most of the weather from us and the firelight will be hidden, the heat contained. You are welcome to sleep there as well.”

“Oh, good, thank you.” Liam gestured behind them at the collapsed roundhouse. “I do not think that would be as comfortable as our old one in Scotti’s village, hmm?!”

“No, indeed.” The smith grunted and then continued. “We have supplies with us, but do you? You said the village was cursed?”

“Yes, the fruits and nuts of the forest wither and die when we approach, the fish evade our every attempt to capture them.” Liam explained as Korey indicated that they should begin walking back to their makeshift camp. “Our stores of wheat and flour ran out the day before we received the quest, so I have some dried fish, some honey, a few sun-dried fruits, a couple of apples, and a small wheel of cheese we traded from one of the travelers along the river.”

“Not much, especially to be climbing mountains when one is unused to the endurance it takes.” Korey replied, thinking about Oisín’s comment moments earlier. _Smooth and untested._ “Very well, we will share some of our food with you-”

“I no longer eat meat.”

“Hmph.” Korey snorted at Liam’s interruption and continued walking. “We grow hardy oats on the southward side of the village, there is a little soil there, we’ll make a porridge, you can add your honey, we have some fruit of our own.”

“Thank you.” Liam said, his cheeks coloring. “I did not mean to sound ungrateful.”

“Inside.” Korey pointed and let Liam go in ahead of him. The interior was lit up from the dancing flames of the fire as they devoured the dry wood. Oisín had already set up their cooking pot, filling it with water and oats from his bag, gradually stirring the contents as they thickened up. Liam sat down opposite the young smith and began taking out his own food, offering the small clay jar of honey to Oisín. “Take it,” Korey said as he pulled a spare cloak from his bag and hung it over the entrance, securing the rough wool with rocks. “It is honey.”

“Ah, very well.” Oisín took the jar from Liam, his eyes narrow and suspicious. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Liam gave him a warm smile, but Oisín was looking into the pot as Korey sat down next to him. 

“I was telling Oisín earlier that it would be of benefit to take turns on watch tonight.” Korey said as he leaned back against the fallen staircase. “I will take the first watch, then you, Liam?”

“That is a good idea.” Liam nodded and accepted the bowl offered by Oisín. “Smells good!”

“Hmm.” Oisín watched him take a bite and swallow before he served Korey and himself. “So, tell me, River Clan, what did you do to make your gods forsake you…again?” He smirked even as Korey elbowed him in the ribs.

“Hahaha!” Liam laughed good-naturedly. “You are right, it is the second time I have been in a clan that was cursed by the gods: if it happens another time, then perhaps _I_ am the problem!”

“While lacking finesse,” Korey glared at Oisín for a moment before turning to address Liam. “My companion has a point, what happened?”

“I think it is a couple of things together: Íosác had rites to perform that he did not, there were no offerings made at the river’s source when there should have been, even after the many seasons of peace since Findabair was defeated.” Liam explained, pausing to take another bite of his meal. “It is no secret that the River Clan value pleasure above all else, the same way that Scotti’s clan are to revere and protect the Nemeton, or your clan known throughout the lands as the greatest smiths to ever wield a hammer.”

“True.” Oisín managed with a straight face until he grinned and laughed.

“Haha, indeed.” Liam chuckled with him. “But a life of pleasure is only possible through the benefaction of the river goddess, Boann. She is a goddess of life and exuberance and rushing passions! While I go north to find the precious moonstones she values so, the clan remain behind to pleasure her watery personification.”

“Uh huh.” Korey shared a confused look with Oisín and then glanced at Liam. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

“What do you think it means?”

“They are all having sex with a river?”

“Hmm,” Liam looked uncomfortable for a moment and then nodded. “Yes, I think so, I did not wait around to find out. I believe in this rite, Boann is both male and female, able to take and accept pleasure.”

“Your customs are strange, river dweller.” Oisín muttered as he scraped the last of the porridge from his bowl.

“Agreed, on both counts!” Liam chuckled again and began to take off his cloak. “It has heated up in here quite nicely.”

“We will break camp at dawn,” Korey said as Oisín offered him a horn of mead and then gave one to Liam. “I still intend on visiting the…the place where Stiles died.”

“I will be honored to join you.” Liam nodded solemnly as he undid the strings tying his jerkin together, leaving the sides open as he leaned back from the fire, casting his bare stomach in shadow. “If that is acceptable?”

“Agreed.”

Liam glanced around cautiously as they approached the battlefield from the northern ridge, the way the great army of Findabair had come when her forces and those of the Alliance clashed so many seasons before. Each step brought back the memories of that terrible battle; the stench and the blood and the death…and then the miraculous healing wave that washed across the battlefield, restoring the fallen member of the Alliance, the result of Stiles’ secret accord with The Dagda. 

The sun was hidden behind heavy grey clouds that had come south from the distant mountains, harried by an increasingly strong gale that blew the trio's cloaks around them and pressed against the wool, searching for any exposed skin. Oisín’s prediction of rain was appearing more and more likely. Liam had looped his left arm through his shield’s straps and had his other hand on his sword, gaze shifting around the battlefield in search for enemies. 

Korey was once more leading the way forward while Oisín took up the rear, both smiths alert, but did not appear as anxious as Liam felt. Perhaps it was because it had been many seasons since he last fought an actual enemy and not just one of the fishermen, half-heartedly interested in learning some sword play. Often, they were interested in another type of _sword play_ that Liam eagerly gave into after working up a sweat!

Korey stopped suddenly and held up his hand. “Wait.”

“What is it?” Liam hissed at him. “Undead?”

“And more.” The smith growled, pulling out his warhammer and hefting it in both hands. “Oisín! Come here! Liam, get that sword out!”

Liam hurriedly ripped his sword from its sheath and crowded next to Oisín and Korey, the younger smith taking out his twin hammers, giving each an experimental whirl. The weapons appeared to be light, silver hafts with leather bound grips that lengthened into loops of thick hide and wrapped around his wrists. The small, square heads of each hammer had been cast in iron, one side shaped into a sheer striking face for actual hammering, while the opposite end had been forged into the open beak of a falcon. 

There was an unearthly groaning and moaning from just ahead of them where the ground dipped into a crater formed from when the druids and darachs had caused fireballs to fall from the sky. The bottom of the impact site was filled with a misty vapor that evidently hid their enemies well. Liam tightened his grip and made to charge ahead into the pit when Korey again raised his hand. “What is it?!”

“A wraith, an evil spirit of the damned unable to cross over.” Korey explained, gesturing at the ethereal green figure that crawled out of the crater and stood upright, a ghostly sword clutched in its hand. “This complicates things.”

“I’ll say!” Liam grimaced in horror as the undead began shambling towards them, dragging broken weapons and limbs along behind them. “Theodric used to be able to control the dead, we could really use him right now!”

“Undead can be destroyed or at least slowed down like any other man: cut off their heads, break their bones.” Korey replied calmly, circling away from them as the wraith fixated on him. “But this creature, only magic can send it to the Other World.”

“Unless you’ve developed some skills I am unaware of…” Liam muttered darkly, preparing to strike as Oisín dropped into a fighting stance. “How are we to kill it? Do we run?”

“I do not have Stiles or Theodric’s innate power, but this warhammer,” Korey paused and looked back at Liam with a grin. “This is the weapon of Goibniu, god of blacksmiths, entrusted to the Mountain Clan long ago. This hammer has magical properties and I know how to wield it!”

“Useful!” Liam grunted as he smashed his shield into the face of the nearest undead minion. The creature crumpled onto the ground, but still lashed out with its severed arm, forcing Liam to dance backwards. “Gah!”

“Get back!” Oisín shouted out, swinging both hammers in an impressive arc to smash into the rib cage of a particularly skeletal attacker. The undead went flying backwards into the gloom as the smith turned his attention to another one approaching on their right flank. “Take this! And that! And some of this!”

 _Gods!_ Liam thought to himself as he fended off yet another undead creature. _No fear, no panic, either the Mountain Clan train their smiths as warriors or Oisín is just skilled._ “Gah! Die you undead…uh, just die again!”

“Liam!” Oisín called out, pointing to another creature even as he swung around in a circle, his hammers scything through several bodies in a whirl of black blood. “There’s more coming for Korey! I cannot get to him!”

“I see them!” Liam rushed forward, using his shield as a battering ram to get to where Korey was confronting the wraith, more undead stumbling forth. He slashed off a nearby arm and ducked low at the counterattack, cutting off the creature’s knees and pushing the minion away from Korey. “I have your back!”

“Good, I need to concentrate!” Korey yelled at him, both hands on the hammer’s long thick haft. He abruptly raised the hammer into the air and then slammed the pommel into the ground as the wraith drifted closer to them. “You will not take us!” The broad head of the warhammer shimmered with a silver glow and then a loud, sonorous boom washed over them, making the undead pause in their attack. Even the wraith hesitated, as though suddenly unsure. “Almost have it.”

“Impressive!” Liam called out, glanced back to where Oisín was wasting no time in attacking the confused undead, his hammers a silver blur as he wielded them above his head, skipping through their enemies with an unexpected grace. The warrior looked back at Korey, noticing the intensity of his expression and the sweat running down his face. He could see Korey’s lips moving, but the words were lost in the noise that the warhammer was creating, whether it was some magic spell or words of prayer, Liam couldn’t tell. But a moment later, a flood of bright, white light arced out of the hammer’s ornate striking plate and collided with the wraith. “Woah!”

The spirit shrieked and was set ablaze, burning on the spot in a column of silver and gold flames as Korey’s lips went still and he wiped the exertion from his brow. The wraith melted into a sticky green puddle as the undead around them gave one last low groan and then collapsed into piles of dry bones. “It is done.”

“That was incredible!” Liam exclaimed, grinning at Korey and patting him on the back. “I thought you said you didn’t have magic!”

“I do not, I simply have the blessings of Goibniu.” The smith replied, leaning wearily on the weapon as Oisín returned to them, his twin hammers covered in black, viscous blood. “How did you enjoy your first battle?”

“Exhilarating!” He grinned and then took out a cloth to clean his weapons as Liam wiped his sword on the brown grass growing around the crater’s edge. “But only because no one was hurt, at least, on our side. I killed a dozen of them!”

“Bah, only eight.” Liam muttered even as he felt his cock harden at Oisín’s grin.

“You’ll have to try harder next time, river dweller!”

“Good, good, you held your own. Thank you.” Korey added when Oisín gave him his waterskin. 

“Held his own? No,” Liam shook his head and smiled as the smiths frowned at him. “That was very impressive, Oisín, you attack like a warrior, you move like a fighter, I would not want to face off against your strength!” _But I would like to see it! You fought in a cloak and armor…let’s see you stripped naked and covered in woad! I will gladly show you how!_

“Um, thank you.” Oisín muttered, turning away from them and avoiding Liam’s hungry gaze. “Should we not continue?”

Korey released a long breath as they stood at the edge of the cliffs that looked out over the vast blue-green water below them, the ocean waves frothy as the wind whipped across the open expanse. The Plains of Cooley stretched back behind them, this part of the battlefield was slightly elevated from the rest, allowing them to see their path across from the Alliance outpost. A rocky cairn had been built at the site of Stiles’ death, constructed by the exiles of the shattered northern clans when they came south, looking for refuge among the victors. 

Liam was a little way off, sitting on the ground, facing the ocean, staring into the distance, while Oisín stood behind Korey, a small leather bag in his hands. The smith glanced over his shoulder and nodded. “Come forward, I am just about finished.”

“As you say.”

“What is in the bag?”

“Theodric gave it to me, said if we were to visit this place, I should give it to, uh, to Stiles.” Oisín hesitated, as though unsure of his words. He glanced at Liam and then back at Korey. “It’s a runic stone, two, actually, one for protection, the other one, hmm, Theodric just said it was a promise paid.”

“The protection stone is for you.” Korey replied as he took the bag from Oisín’s hand. He pulled out the runes, noting the simple gold engraving and handed it back to the other smith. The second runic stone had been dipped in silver and had a complicated spiral pattern engraved on its surface. Korey knelt down and slotted the rune into a space in the cairn, lodging it tight. “There now, your first quest complete.”

“I will make sure to tell Theodric when we return.” Oisín said, relief washing over his features.

“You did well,” Korey smiled warmly at him and then pulled a dagger from under his cloak. He placed the weapon in the same place as the rune stone and stood back. “I am returning this to you, Stiles, I received your message, and even though that time was not among the greatest of successes, we have another opportunity. We shall see where it leads us.”

Oisín was watching him strangely as Korey bowed his head and then straightened up. He smiled and kissed Oisín’s lips, catching him by surprise. “All is well, my love, shall we continue our journey?”

“I am ready.”

“Good.” Korey turned and called out to Liam. “Warrior! Let us be away!”

“Glad to hear it!” Liam jumped to his feet and grinned at them both. “I am unsettled by this place. To the mountains!”

“We should cut across the ridge and head north-east until we again find the river.” Korey said as they started walking together across the headland. “Then we can follow it north to its source. Depending on how far the mountain from our quest is, we may have to split up at that point.”

“That would be a shame,” Oisín smirked at Liam. “You’re almost bearable, river dweller.”

“Oh indeed? I still need four bodies to catch up to you, Oisín.” Liam replied playfully. “The tale of this quest cannot have me outmatched by a mere smith, even one as strong as you!”

“Perhaps you should spend less time _handling_ your sword and more time using it!”

“Oh ho!”

Korey smiled to himself as Liam and Oisín continued to banter back and forth, trading good natured ribbing as he set his sights on the purple mountains in the distance, the cloud lifting to reveal the icy bulwarks jutting up aggressively from the landscape perhaps a day’s travel away.


	4. The Storm Druid

It took them until late in the afternoon to make their way out of the scrublands and up onto the foothills that sloped gradually higher towards their destination in the mountains. Night-time found them taking shelter in the mouth of a cave, previous signs of habitation were few until Korey found scattered fragments of pottery and a dark discoloration of the stone floor where a fire must have been laid time and again. But other than their increasingly friendly conversation over a meal of rabbit stew and taking turns on watch, there was little to disturb their rest.

Morning came with heavy fog that obscured the sun overhead into a pale disc of light which struggled to reach them. Korey had watched the mist arrive with interest, thinking at first that it was evidence of a fire from somewhere further up the valley before realizing that the white “smoke” was indeed fog. Liam had wondered if perhaps they should wait until it cleared, but Korey had argued instead that it may only get thicker, words that were quickly reinforced by the throaty grumble of thunder in the distance. The lack of wind was somewhat concerning, even if he and Oisín were far more used to storms than Liam. There was no lightning, only the occasional rumble of thunder as they advanced from the cave.

By mid-morning they had made little progress, the going slow as Korey took the lead and tested each footstep with the pommel of the shaft from his warhammer. Earlier, Oisín had nearly walked right over the side of the cliff they were skirting, only Liam’s quick reactions managing to pull him back to safety. The fog was still oppressive and encircled them on all sides, changing the world into a strangely illuminated landscape of stone and gravelly soil. Korey stopped moving and gestured for the other two to join him.

“What is it?”

“A ravine, just ahead.” The smith pointed to where the cliff’s edge fell away into what looked like a gentle slope before the mist stole their view. “It is colder here, a lot colder.”

“Is it?” Liam shivered. “I’ve been cold since we left the plains.”

“Here, touch the hammer.” Korey held out his weapon and nodded as Liam extended a hand and brushed his fingers against the iron head before snatching them back.

“Yowch! It’s freezing!”

“My iron is cold too.” Oisín said, testing his fingers against the warhammers hanging from his belt. “But this is strange, _I_ do not feel particularly cold.”

“Mountain blood,” Korey smirked at Liam’s incredulous expression. “Well, a blessing from Airmed at least.”

“Hmm, should we continue on then?” Liam asked after looking Oisín up and down as though he was trying to see the blessing manifest somehow. “It isn’t like we can just sit here all day waiting for the fog to lift.”

“Agreed, I will test the ground as we advance.” Korey nodded and turned around, extending his warhammer outwards and began to walk slowly forwards, tapping the ground with the weapon. There was a perilous moment when he felt the haft of the hammer fall through his fingers, but it hit the ground with a thud a second later and Korey nodded, moving forward again.

The ravine cut straight through the hilly landscape, towering cliffs of unscalable rock and moss loomed upwards on either side, but as the party entered the gorge, the mist before them fell away and abruptly they were looking up at the mountains again. The snow-covered peak in front of them climbed steeply, the bare stone of its flanks was a mixture of scree and large rock faces that broke up the sheerness of its slopes. Liam glanced over his shoulder, frowning when he saw the heavy blanket of fog that continued to drape the outside world in its impenetrable gloom. “Huh, magic mist?”

“Perhaps.” Korey replied shortly, stepping over a large slab of rock and pointing at something just beyond them. “I believe this is your river, Liam.”

“Hmm, could be, it’s barely a stream now.” The warrior nodded as he leapt up to investigate the sound of water coming from beyond them. The stony ground of the ravine was covered in a hoar frost; the boulders around them coated in frozen dew and gleaming brightly in the weak midday sun. Liam shivered again, pulling his cloak tighter around his body as he looked at the river, its edges frozen solid before the ice grew thin and treacherous, dark, turbulent water rushed over the stones and storm-washed debris before disappearing underground near the entrance to the ravine. “I believe it’s the sacred river.”

“Are you sure?” Oisín asked, looking around warily. “It would be good if it were, we can follow that stream all the way to the source. Maybe find your moonstones along the way.”

“Let me check.” Liam grumbled and crouched down next to the stream. He grimaced and then reached out, plunging his hand into the water. It was as cold as he expected, but a tingle of something more than ice ripped through him and sunk into his chest, knocking the air from his body. “Agh!”

“Huh?” 

“I am well, shaken, but unharmed.” Liam gasped and sat down abruptly, shaking his hand as hot blood rushed into his fingers painfully. He grimaced as the others looked at him, brows arched questioningly. “It’s the river, I am certain. But I am also certain that Íosác’s rituals are not yet effective: Boann is still angry with the clan.” He accepted Oisín’s hand to pull himself upright and nodded at the younger man. “However, you make a good point: we can follow this all the way back to the mountain it comes from. That matches everything the clan told me before I left.”

“Good.” Oisín nodded and glanced up at the high ridges surrounding them. “I don’t know about you, but I feel as though we are being watched.”

“Then we best make haste.” Korey said. “Liam, take the lead, I’ll guard our backs.”

The group had not gone more than a few steps before a screeching sound came from overhead, swiftly followed by a large man hurtling off the clifftop above them and crashing down into the knee-deep water, a sword and axe clutched in his hands. Liam froze and stared at the man, only noticing the broad blade of the man’s crude blades swinging towards him at the last moment. He dodged instinctively and reached for his own sword and shield. “Yagh!”

“Watch out!” Korey cried as more of the raggedly dressed but well-armed men launched themselves from the ridge and landed among them. He brought up his warhammer and smashed the weighty head into the nearest attacker, forcing him backwards. “Oisín!”

“Get back, fiends!” The smith snarled and whirled around, hammers already at the ready. He sunk one into the chest of a bandit wielding two daggers, the crack of splintering ribs echoing loudly in the confined space. “Their armor is weak!”

“And they have no helmets!” Korey grinned savagely as he managed to get his warhammer up to chest height and whirled it around in a devastating arc. One of their attackers shouted animalistically at him, a cry that was abruptly cut off by the sharp end of Korey’s warhammer as it cleaved his skull in two with a meaty crunch. “Here’s more of them! Show no mercy!”

“Back off!” Liam growled, using his shield to bash the face of his attacker, following up with a stab of his sword through the man’s ragged leather jerkin. “Haha, two already, Oisín!”

“Oh, I’m on four!” Oisín paused to grin at Liam.

“What?! Bah!”

“Archer!” Korey called out warningly as an arrow rattled harmlessly off the rock next to him. “Watch out!”

“We’ll be in trouble if there’s more than one!” Liam grunted and thrust his sword into a nearby bandit’s stomach as another wave descended from the ridge above them. “Do you have a plan?”

“Yes, perhaps, stand back.” Korey grimaced and dispatched the attacker nearest him before he could pick up his sword with his non-broken arm. The smith straightened up and brought the head of his warhammer up to eyelevel. Under the blood and gore, he could see the fine grooves and curves of decoration and ornamentation glow with a soft orange, not unlike the embers of his forge. Korey smirked and gripped the shaft with both hands, slamming the pommel into the ground with a sonorous thud. “Goibniu, grant me your power, unleash your divine wrath on those who seek our deaths!”

“Where do you think you’re going?!” Oisín snarled and flung his hammer towards a fleeing attacker, nodding with satisfaction when the man collapsed on the weapon’s impact. “Hah! Woah!” He jumped backwards when the whistling of an arrow overhead warned him of the impending attack. Liam joined him against the cliff wall a moment later as more arrows began to rain down on them. “Look!” 

“Huh? Oh, wow.” Liam stared as a flickering bubble expanded from Korey’s weapon and surrounded him, causing any arrows that collided with the shield to shatter and splinter. A moment later flames blossomed around the smith and shot outwards towards the archers on the ridgeline. Liam raised his shield to cover his face as the searing jet of fire passed nearby, melting ice and cracking stone. 

“That’s what you get for attacking the chosen of Goibniu!” Oisín cheered, raising his remaining warhammer victoriously as panicked screaming came from above them. 

“You knew about this?”

“Err, not _this_ exactly,” He shrugged as the stream of fire vanished and the master smith became visible again. “But Korey wields the actual hammer of a god, carries his blessing, and there are a couple of different abilities that I’ve seen.”

“That was impressive.” Liam said to Korey as they regrouped next to the river, Oisín going to retrieve his other hammer. “What other tricks do you have?”

“I don’t have the tricks, Liam.” Korey explained as he reverently cleaned the weapon in the water. “I am simply a vessel for Goibniu to act through. Let us be thankful that He chose to aid us this time.”

“Err, yes, praise be.” Liam muttered and turned away to kick over one of their attackers. “Who do you think they were?”

“Bandits probably, remnants of Findabair’s horde perhaps.”

“Definitely.” Oisín said as he returned. “Their armor was poor, their weapons were rough but of good metal once.”

“Hmm, it matters not, they are dead or running away.” Korey replied, standing up. “We should keep moving.”

“Yes, you’re right.” Liam gave them a sly grin. “Especially when I killed seven of them…”

“Aww, is that all?” Oisín grinned openly as Liam’s expression abruptly soured. “I managed nine myself.”

“Gah!”

“Come on.” Korey smirked to himself as Liam grumbled under his breath. He stopped and held up his hand swiftly when he heard a strange noise coming down the ravine towards them, as though large blocks of ice were snapping and breaking. “Softly now, there may yet be more dangers ahead.”

They continued up the gorge, emerging into a wide tear-shaped clearing containing a clear-if very deep-pool of aqua-blue water and a towering wall of ice that blocked any further progress. The stream ran from the pond, but as Korey looked around, he noticed that Liam’s river appeared to be fed from the glacial barrier. He frowned suddenly, casting his eyes across the water of the pond. It was utterly still and undisrupted save for a wide pillar of hand-carved stone that rose from the depths at the center of the pool-strange, if somewhat familiar symbols covering it. “Hmm.”

“What-ah!” Liam’s question was interrupted by a sudden whooshing sound and the warrior jumped back, trampling heavily on Oisín’s foot and ankle. 

“Gah! Watch it, river dweller!” The smith shoved him to one side and gave Liam a foul look. “That hurt!”

“L-l-look!”

“I can see him.” Korey glanced away from them and instead focused on the man that had appeared from thin air in front of them. He was standing on the pillar at the center of the lake, clad in heavy robes of snow white, not unlike those that Stiles used to wear. A cord of silver was wrapped around his waist with several leather pouches hanging from it and the sheath of a dagger thrust through it. The weapon’s handle seemed to be carved bone, gleaming brightly, its blade hidden as Korey continued to study the stranger. 

The man was much older than them, perhaps as old as Fionn, with flowing silver hair that passed his shoulders and came to the center of his chest, but his beard was darker: black in places fading out to grey and then white closest to his ears. His eyes were as blue as the water around him, a striking feature in a face that was otherwise lined and weathered. His expression was framed in curiosity, as though intrigued by their presence rather than threatened by it.

“Greetings.” Korey said politely, walking closer to the edge of the pool. He could see the lip of the rock at its edge before the slope fell away entirely and the bottom was lost in inkiness. “Um, my name is Korey de Bryant, this is Oisín Mc Darragh, and Liam, uh…”

“Irondix.” Liam replied smoothly as Korey struggled to remember. 

“ _Iron dicks_?” The smith paused and turned to look at him stonily. 

“I changed it to suit my, uh, many talents.”

“Indeed.” He growled and turned back to the stranger. “Liam Irondix it is. We have-”

“You wish to enter the Seat of the Mountain.” The man interrupted them with a smile. “Yes, I have foreseen this: three travelers from far off lands will come to the place of peace just after winter’s turn. One is the river rock, on a quest from a spurned god.”

“That’s me.” Liam said, nodding as he moved to join Korey by the pool’s edge.

“Hmm, and then came the newly forged blade, so eager to prove himself as a warrior like those in the legends...and in his clan.” The stranger just smiled as Oisín nodded silently. “Yes, I see you. And with you comes the master of smiths, one who carries a weapon of the gods, who hears their thoughts and enacts their will.”

“I serve Goibniu, lord of crafting.” Korey replied evenly, bowing his head slightly. “You seem to know us, who are you, stranger?”

“I am Midir, a Storm Druid, guardian of the Mountain Clan, and healer, counsellor, and guide to their Chieftain, Maeve Ni Bronach.” Midir introduced himself with a sweeping bow before smiling again. “Although, to you, master smith and your young apprentice, you may consider us the _other_ Mountain Clan.”

“You know why we have come?” Oisín asked with a frown. 

“I have dreamt of it many times since the dark darach was defeated, a message from the gods or the ancestors, I am not certain.” Midir shrugged and gestured to the mountain above them, partially hidden by the wall of ice. “The clan are not aware of this dream, not when I could not be certain of its meaning. I came here to seek guidance from the goddess of the river, but she is somewhere else, somewhere beyond my vision.”

“Oh, that’d be Íosác and my clan, um, tending to her watery needs.” Liam explained with a vague gesture.

“Ah, perhaps some of her spirit still dwells within the mountain.” Midir said with a sage nod. “The younger part, that which is to be appeased by your offering.”

“Ahem, we have come to speak to your clan, establish relations or…re-establish them if they have lapsed.” Korey explained, gesturing for Oisín to come to him. “Open your travelling sack, I need the emblem Fionn gave me.”

“Oh, of course.”

Korey waited for Oisín to fish the object out and then he held it up to Midir. The emblem was a solid disk of gold that could fit into Korey’s hand easily with silver seams running through it like several rivers. A cluster of red garnets lay on one side of the disk and another grouping of green garnets had been embedded on the opposite side. Fionn hadn’t explained the meaning to Korey, but Theodric had seemed to approve and had been confident that the message-whatever it was-would be received.

“Ah, interesting.” Midir chuckled to himself and nodded when he caught sight of the emblem. The Storm Druid waved one hand and a bridge of ice extended from the pillar to where the trio were gathered at the shore. He walked across the thick bridge quickly, the construction collapsing into mist moments after his passage. Midir held out his hand and Korey gave him the emblem. “Very interesting, yes, this makes sense.”

“Good, then you will take us to the village?”

“Ah, no, this is a message from your darach, but you yourselves must be tested.” Midir returned the emblem to Korey and walked over to the wall of frozen water. “Our village is a sacred place, hidden from the warring clans of the north and their abrasive magicks. You must take passage through the tunnels, survive its challenge and then emerge on the other side as Friends of the Second Mountain.”

“What about me? I need to keep following the river.” Liam spoke up as Korey gave Oisín the emblem for safekeeping. “My quest is different from theirs, we even started out in different villages, our meeting purely by chance.”

“Ah, chance was it? Do not discount the machinations of the gods so quickly, Liam Irondix.” Midir chuckled again and raised a hand towards the glacial wall. “You are to go this way, behold!”

“Wow!” The trio stepped backwards as the ice shattered and broke cleanly, collapsing into the pool with a crash, leaving behind a perfectly oval hole in the wall. Beyond, the river could be seen running from a dark cave, the water appearing no more than knee deep. 

“Your goddess waits within, river rock, as do the gems you need to offer to her.” Midir stepped back from them. “Be cautious though, more than bandits and the undead will try and stop your passage this time.”

“Wait, how did you know about…” Korey frowned as Midir simply vanished, leaving behind nothing but a hazy mist. “He’s gone.”

“Into the caves then!” Liam pointed heroically and began to move forward, stopping when Korey called his name. “What?”

“We must prepare: make torches, clean our weapons, have some food, ensure our change of clothing is dry in case your river gets broad or deep in that cave.” Korey gestured for Oisín to sit down and he looked around the clearing. “It would be helpful to get a fire going first…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am currently deployed overseas and as such updates will be irregular for the rest of this story. I’ll try and get the next chapter out before the end of the month.


	5. The Open Door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains explicit sexual content between Liam and a water spirit…it’s like magical sex toys basically!

The caves were dark and damp, filled with dripping water and slick walls, a thick luminescent green fungus growing overhead and along any cracks where soil had been washed into. The river flowed ever onwards against them as the trio advanced up the first tunnel. It wasn’t very deep, instead being fast and icy cold. Liam gasped when he lost his footing and his boot slipped into the stream, instantly soaking the lower third of his trousers. After that, he was more careful, less hasty to just find the moonstones and finish his quest.

Korey led the way yet again, holding a flaming torch aloft with one hand, the other on the shaft of his warhammer, holding the heavy weapon as though it weighed nothing. Oisín was following him, with Liam bringing up the rear, the warrior also holding a torch as the young smith had both of his hammers out, looking around cautiously. There was noise coming from every direction; the water running across stone and rushing over the uneven ground, the constant dripping that lingered at the edge of his hearing, the sound of their footsteps as the group made their way over large boulders and slippery gravel and onto the relatively flat surface that had opened up beyond the initial cave.

“Hmm.” Liam hummed to himself, raising his torch to examine the nearby cavern walls. “I don’t see any precious stones yet.”

“We probably have to go deeper.” Korey gestured at a branching tunnel system that led out from the cavern in four directions. “This way, I think.”

“Why?”

“The floor slopes a little, and the water is not as fast.” He pointed at another passageway to illustrate his point. “See there, where the river has worn a rut in the floor? But over here, the ground is less eroded, that means the water has not always gone this way. Likely this passage is drier.”

“Should we not try and keep to the river? Follow its path?” Liam countered, walking forward to join Korey at the mouth of the first tunnel. 

“It is your quest…” The smith replied after a moment of considering both directions. “If you feel that we should remain next to the river, then we will follow you.”

“I just don’t want to get lost in here.”

“The Mountain Clan have many mines, some old and twisty, others new and straight,” Oisín said as the other two looked at him. “I can find our way to fresh air, fear not. And besides, we have spare torches and food enough for several days. We will be fine.”

“Very well.” Liam sighed and pointed towards the tunnel where the river was flowing the strongest. “I think we should go this way, I feel like staying close to the river will guide us to where we must go.”

“Lead on, then.” Korey gestured for him to take point. 

“If this way brings us to monsters or bandits…” Oisín called out with a smirk as Liam turned to give him a withering look. “I know who I’ll be blaming!”

“Follow me.” Liam grumbled and held his torch higher as they continued deeper into the caverns.

“Wait!” Korey shouted, his voice booming along the tunnels under the mountain. He waved his torch in an attempt to get the other two men to turn around and come back to where he was standing. “There’s a small passageway here.”

“And?” Liam shrugged, irritation clear on his face. “We have been traipsing around these tunnels for what feels like days! How many torches do we have left?”

“Four,” Oisín replied evenly. “Calm yourself, warrior, we will find your moonstones.”

“Sooner rather than later, Liam.” Korey smiled and pointed at the floor of the cave they were standing in. The light from his torch was reflected in a dazzling sparkle that seemed to catch the illumination and hold onto it even as the smith moved away to let Liam inspect the rock. “This is close to the surface, but difficult to extract and we did not bring enough tools.”

“What do you suggest?”

“See here, a small crevice in the rock, we might be able to get through.” Korey replied, placing a hand on the stone wall of the cave. “I do not know how to explain it, but I _feel_ as though there is something on the other side…some sort of space or opening.”

“Well, perhaps, but it looks very narrow.” Liam hummed under his breath, brows pulled together. “We should continue looking-”

“Shush!” Oisín hissed urgently, his weapons drawn. “Do you hear that?”

“I hear nothing.”

“No, wait. I can hear something.” Korey said slowly, his expression growing dark. “The Storm Druid did say there would be a challenge within the mountain.”

“I thought survival would be enough.” Liam muttered and threw his torch on the ground to free his hands for his sword and shield. “Any idea what it might be?”

Oisín remained silent, his eyes half closed as he concentrated. There was no sound save for the constant dripping of water on rock for a few moments before the noise that had originally alerted him came again further down the passageway that led out of the cave. It was like scrabble of claws on icy rock, such as when the birds tried to fly up to the village during the heart of winter and faced only blizzards, forcing them to land on the side of the mountain. The smith inched forward, his head bowed, sight useless in the gloom of the cave. 

There it was again.

The strange sound was closer this time, and there was the suggestion of something large and hulking in the darkness ahead of him. Oisín frowned and stopped moving, his hands gripping the haft of his weapons tightly. Instinct made him drop swiftly to a crouch as long talons swept overhead, cutting the air to ribbons. Immediately following the attack, the creature stepped forward, its hideous appearance forcing Oisín to stumble backwards towards Korey and Liam. “M-m-monster!”

“Raaaaaaaaaaaak!” The shrill blast echoed loudly around them, accompanied by the stretching of ragged wings that spanned the breadth of the tunnel. As the creature shuffled forward into the torchlight, its terrifying face was revealed, an unnatural mingling of man and crow. One side of its mouth was pulled into a leering grin, the lips cracked and oozing with yellow pus, while the other side jutted out in a crow’s beak, a division that was etched across all its features. 

Long, powerful arms extended from a muscular body covered in dark, bloodied feathers, the sharp talons were a stained brown and clenched and unclenched aggressively as the creature moved towards them at an uneven gait, one human leg and one crow’s claw propelling it forward into the ring of light from Liam’s torch. “Fresh meat! Caw!”

“Get behind me!” Korey shouted, darting forward to wrap an arm across Oisín’s chest and pulled him out of reach of the birdman. “Liam, get ready!”

“I am ready now!” He gave his sword a few swings and raised his shield to protect his face and neck as the creature lashed out again. There was an unpleasant scratching and splintering noise as the talons ripped deep furrows in the shield before finding purchase. “Argh!” Liam gasped as the creature gripped his shield and yanked it backwards, pulling the buckler away from him and almost breaking his arm. “I need help!”

“Get back, creature!” Korey roared, bringing up his warhammer with practiced hands. He swung the weapon towards the monster’s chest, letting the momentum bring himself forward as the smooth head of the hammer collided with the feathers. Instead of the expected crunch of breaking bones and shattered cartilage, there was a dull clanging and Korey backed off, grimacing as he felt the vibrations echo down the haft of his hammer. “What in Goibniu’s name…”

“Look! Behind it, more creatures!” Oisín cried out. 

“Gods damnit!” Liam groaned. “We’ll be overrun!”

“No, you and Oisín take care of the other monsters!” Korey ordered as the birdman stepped forward slowly, its attention fixed on his hammer, its eyes gleaming brightly. “I’ll hold this creature off until you can aid me!”

“But-”

“There’s no time! Attack them!” Korey shoved Oisín towards Liam and squared his shoulders, his eyes determined. “Come on, vile one!”

“Caw! Caw!” The feathered monster hopped forward awkwardly, its gait was almost amusing, distracting from its deadly claws until its arms shot out again. 

“Gah!” Korey managed to fend off the first attack by dancing backwards and using his warhammer to bat the claws away. He let the second attack hit him, his iron armor absorbing the strike even as his cloak was torn in half. As the monster came in closer to him, the smith flipped his hammer over and used all his strength to drive it upwards, the sharper end smashing into the monster’s chest. There was a metallic screech as the weapon struck against its armor, a keening that pierced the air until finally a pop as the monster’s natural defenses were breached. “Rawrr!”

“Caw! Caw! Krrr!” The birdman shrieked and flapped its wings, pulling itself off the ground and brushing against the ceiling of the cave. 

“No, you are not getting away that easily!” Korey hung grimly onto his warhammer, a grin breaking out across his face as he felt the haft dragging him down and ripping open the monster’s chest, blood and gore spilling out to splash wetly against his face and arms. Abruptly, the birdman kicked out with both feet and Korey lost his grip, falling back onto the ground. “Ah!”

“Krrr!” 

“Ah, ah, ow.” Korey grunted and rolled over, pain shooting across his shoulder blades and back. He wiped his eyes free of the thick red blood and wrinkled his noise as the iron taste got into his mouth. “Pwaah!” The birdman had retreated a bit, trying to pull the warhammer from its chest and giving him a moment to recover. 

Korey could see Liam and Oisín battling against the other creatures: smaller than the birdman, but just as hideous, cursed melding of bats and spiders and all manner of vile, pale things that lived hidden from the sun. There were perhaps a dozen left, most of the monsters had fallen or were retreating away from the battle. A sudden thud made Korey look back towards the birdman, noticing that his hammer had hit the ground. “Time to end this!”

He jumped back up and ran over to scoop up his hammer, not stopping in his charge towards the monster. “Yahhhh!” The smith shouted his wordless war cry and used both hands to swing the weapon towards the birdman’s legs, smashing through the bones with a satisfying crunch, sending the creature crashing to the ground in a jumble of feathers and limbs.

“Krrrr!” The birdman screeched and tried to retreat, but Korey inverted his hammer and dropped it onto one of its wings with another meaty crunch. “Caw! Caw! Merc…mercy!”

“Mercy?” The smith arched a brow as Liam released a shout of triumph. “You can speak?” The creature didn’t reply, just continued to shuffle backwards until its progress was halted by its pinned wing. “No? Just a monster?”

“Not…always, caw! Caw! I…cursed…krr!” The voice shifted between that of a bird and a man. “Mercy!”

“Hmm.” Korey frowned, his heart beating slower as Liam and Oisín joined him, the fury of battle fading away. “You are no mindless creature, but you still attacked us, seemed as though you meant to eat us.”

“What are you waiting for?” Liam asked, cleaning his sword on his cloak. “Finish that thing off!”

“It can speak, said it was cursed too.”

“Krr! Cursed! Caw! Mercy!” The birdman screeched again, still trying to back away from them.

“If you will not end it, I will!” Liam made to dash forward and plunge his sword into the birdman’s chest, but his attack was abruptly blocked by Oisín, his hammers crossed over to ensnare Liam’s blade. “What?!”

“Leave your bloodlust aside for a moment!” The younger smith snapped and expertly twisted his wrists, flicking his weapons and pulling Liam’s sword from his hands, sending it clattering to the ground harmlessly. “You cannot kill that which is asking for mercy.”

“It is a monster like the ones we just defeated.” Liam snarled and squared his shoulders, crowding aggressively into Oisín’s face. “What is the difference?!”

“This one can speak.” Korey said sharply and pulled his warhammer off the birdman’s wing. “And like Oisín said, we should not kill that which asks for mercy, even if it is a monster.”

“Krr! Thank you! Thank you!” The birdman managed to stand and bowed at them, all traces of its earlier difficulty speaking vanishing as it cocked its head at them. “You will let me go?”

“Get out of here, before I change my mind.” Liam barked, gesturing into the darkness of the passage. 

“Can we not help you?” Oisín offered even as Liam glared at him. “Get rid of your curse?”

“I already have a quest to complete!” 

“I was not talking to _you_ , river dweller!”

“Caw, caw!” The birdman flapped its wings again and then seemed to grin slyly at them before it backed away into the shadows and abruptly faded from sight, leaving only a silver outline in the air. “Krr!”

“What in Boann’s name was that about?” Liam frowned and went over to pick up his sword. “Korey? What do you think?”

“Hmm, I think this was a trial, a test.” Korey mused aloud as he rested his hands on the top of his hammer. “Was it not? Just like the Storm Druid warned us about?”

“I think so,” Oisín called out, having walked forward a few paces. “All of the other creatures are gone, only this silver dust is left. Hmm, I suppose that means your kills did not count, river dweller!”

“Bah! And I was ahead of you this time too!” 

“Hmm.” Korey hummed to himself again, brows furrowed as he considered the encounter. After allowing Oisín and Liam a few minutes to bicker back and forth about their kills and battle techniques, the smith picked up his warhammer and pointed at the crevice where the seam of gemstones was. “Come, let us see if this is where your moonstones lie, Liam.”

The flow of water could be heard a little way ahead of them, the party now walking slowly in single file through an exceptionally narrow tunnel. The crevice had been a challenge to get through, with both Oisín and Korey having to take off and carry their armor in order the squeeze through the gap. Liam had found it easier but disliked the cramped dimensions of the tunnel beyond the fissure. 

The light from their torches was reflected back at them repeatedly as they passed through the tunnel and into a wider cave, the stone walls studded with all manner of precious stones and crystal outcroppings. Liam stopped next to a particularly dense outcropping, the crystals patterned like a dazzling rainbow. The warrior reached out as if in a daze and broke off a piece of the crystal, the moonstone coming away with ease. He stared at it for what felt like a few seconds, stepping away when Korey called his name. “What?”

“That is what you are seeking.” 

“How do you know?”

“Well, you have been looking at it since we entered this cave.” Korey replied, a smile playing around his lips. “And we have swapped torches in that time, looked around and found your river, and put our armor back on. There is something else you need to see. Come, Oisín is securing the other cave.”

“I cannot believe it had me entranced for so long…” Liam muttered, rubbing his eyes and accepting a new torch from Korey. “Those crystals match what I was told it would look like, but I still expected an actual stone.”

“I could have told you it was not that, had you asked.” Korey said, leading him through the gemstone cave and into another one. “Most gems do not look like much until they are cut and polished.”

“Well, I suppose that…” Liam trailed off, his words no longer coming as he stared at a tall, shimmering gateway hanging in the air. It was a strange mix of silver and black, as though the two colors were blending together, the gateway darker from one angle and then brighter from another. “By the gods!”

“I think it is a doorway to the Other World.” Korey said, gesturing vaguely at it as Oisín came to stand beside them. “And look; your river is flowing from it.”

“Wow, strange indeed!” Liam shook his head in wonder as he watched water spill from the base of the gateway and onto the floor of the cave. It ran across the rock through several grooves before coming together again and streaming through a hole in the stone and out of sight. “Amazing to think that such a tiny stream becomes a mighty river!”

“All things begin in the smallest of ways, with the simplest of gestures.” Korey replied sagely.

“Hmm, and this must be for the offering.” Liam said, walking over to a water-smoothed stone bowl to one side of the gateway. It was on a plinth of about waist height and the warrior nodded, carefully placing the moonstones within. 

“So it is done?” Oisín asked, tilting his head to try and see behind the gateway, frowning when all he saw was the cave wall completely dry. “You are finished?”

“Err, not quite.” Liam smirked and undid the clasp that held his cloak up, letting the fabric fall to the ground. “The elders said that the goddess requires more than just moonstones, Boann must also know that the clan is strong and willing to sacrifice that strength!”

“Ah, blood, of course.” The young smith nodded knowledgeably before stopping as Liam continued smirking and Korey pursed his lips. “Wait, not blood?”

“Boann will want a sacrifice of strength and stamina, endurance and essence!”

“The River Clan are strange…” Oisín muttered to Korey and went to stand next to him. “You have to…pleasure yourself for your gods?”

“Oh yes, yes indeed!” Liam replied with relish. He quickly stripped out of his trousers and shoes, underclothes discarded a moment later, followed swiftly by his jerkin. The cold air wrapped around his body like an unpleasant glove and Liam’s nipples immediately stiffened. “Ah! Invigorating!”

“Come, we should leave the warrior to commune with his goddess in peace.” Korey placed a hand on Oisín’s shoulder and made to leave but Liam called out, asking them to stay. “Are you sure?”

“Oh yes! I need all the inspiration I can get, it’s so damn cold!” Liam protested loudly. He glanced over his shoulder to see Oisín looking at him with a critical frown while Korey was staring at the ceiling with apparent interest. “Um, that sounded strange, did it not?”

“Mmh hmm.” Oisín nodded and grimaced as though he was embarrassed. “Your people are so strange.”

“I simply meant…” 

“Perhaps you should focus on yourself?” Korey suggested, gesturing vaguely towards the gateway. “It is your goddess you are meant to be honoring, not your own satisfaction and pleasure.”

“When did you get so wise?” Liam frowned at him. He turned halfway around so he was facing the gateway and could also see Korey and Oisín out of the corner of his eye. Liam tried not to just stare at them as he ran a hand down his muscled chest and onto the closely cropped nest of brown hair that adorned his pelvis. His cock was already hard, standing up at an angle, his balls full and heavy between his legs. The moment his cool hand wrapped around the hot shaft sent shivers up and down the length of his member and Liam gasped in a breathy moan. “Ahhh!”

“Do you think those are sapphires?” Oisín murmured to Korey as he turned away from Liam’s display and stooped to investigate the wall of the cave.

“Hmm, no, the color is all wrong.”

“Mmh!” Liam grunted under his breath, his eyes locking onto the abrupt tightening of Oisín’s trousers when the smith bent over further, unaware of the attention he was garnering. _Imagine sinking into that sweet ass! I bet it’s soft and tight and pale! Oooh, how many times has Korey taken him from behind?! To be there to see it!_ Liam pumped his hand up and down his cock, working the shaft with a familiar mix of pressure and gliding release, his thumb polishing the slick tip of his glans with every up-stroke creating a moment of almost painful friction now and again. 

“This seam could be silver though.” Oisín had knelt down on the cave floor next to Korey and was looking up at the master smith as he traced a hand over a milky white line that wound through the rock. “Do you think?”

“Could be, could also be crystal brought to the surface by the river’s motion.” Korey replied, patting Oisín’s shoulder in an affectionate gesture and smiling warmly at him. He kept facing the other way even as he called out to Liam. “How’s that, uh, ritual going?”

“Nearly…there, ugh!” Liam groaned, his free hand now playing with his cold-hardened nipples, pulling pleasure from them even as his imagination ran wild with lust-filled images and overpowering desires. _Stay like that, Oisín, but be naked, strong and lean from all that time working in the forge! Korey’s fat cock in your mouth, you sucking him and stroking yourself as I watch it all unfold! Uh, so close! And then, and then, ugh, Korey shoots! His thick cum drenching your face, soaking into that fire-red hair and…_ “Ah! Ah! Ahhhhh!” Liam shouted his pleasure aloud, unable to restrain himself any longer. “Ahhhh! Yes!”

He used both hands to pump his cock up and down, thrusting into the tight heat as though it was a mouth or a hole before Liam turned around and faced the bowl. The warrior gasped and grunted as the lust boiled over and he came hard, his thick, ample seed splattering across the moonstone offering and against the wall of the cave. He gave his dick a few final strokes as the rest of his cum erupted from the tip and splashed all over the rim of the offering bowl. “Wow! Yes!”

“Hahahaha! Impressive!” There was a peal of womanly laughter and what sounded like clapping before a bright light burst forth from the gateway. The light enveloped Liam like a thick woollen blanket after being outside on a winter’s day, banishing the icy air from his body. “I accept your offering, clansman!”

“Oh good, that’s-” Liam’s words cut off abruptly as he felt his feet lift off the ground and the light around him intensified to the point he could no longer see. “What’s happening?! Where am I going?!”

There was another bout of laughter, this time sounding younger, more playful. His sight returned just as quickly as it had left, Liam blinking in confusion as he found himself sitting in a hot spring outside. There were mountains all around him, bare rock and straggly bushes forming rolling hills of stone and random greenery. “Korey? Oisín?” Liam called out, looking around for the two smiths. But they were not with him, in fact, there was no one else in sight. “Huh, strange.”

His fear and apprehension melted away like tallow as a candle burned low, the soothing heat of the warm water lulling him into comfort. Liam leaned back against the edge of the pool, taking in the deep blue of the water and the smoothness of the stones against his skin. He frowned as a thrill of excitement roiled over his body, rippling across his muscles and sinking through his stomach to emerge at his cock. It was getting hard again, his balls tightening and even the entrance of his hole felt tinglingly and stimulated. “What is happening?”

“Relax, calm yourself…” The words were whispered across the wind, the voice beginning as female and ending as male and then switching back, over and over again. “You have restored my faith in your clan, now accept my blessing in all its pleasurable forms!”

“Oh! Err, that’s-ah!” Liam stammered before gasping, his entire body quaking as he felt a presence in the water around him. A mouth formed in the liquid and swallowed his cock, applying tightness and heat in equal measure. The experience was strange and yet Liam was instantly aroused, thrusting his hips up and down, his cock sliding in and out of the smooth lips without meeting any resistance. “Ahhh! This is incredible!”

“I know what you desire, what you _truly_ desire!”

“Ahhhh!” Liam gasped and howled as he was borne out into the center of the pool, his weight supported by the water, his arms lying by his side. He stared up at the perfect, cloudless sky and let the sensations flow over him like the water was. “Ohh, yes! Right there!”

There was a pressure at his ass cheeks, the muscles forced slowly apart with exacting pleasure, his hole being teased with perfectly smooth strokes of water. It was as though he was being licked and fingered at the same time, but not just by one mouth or one person, but by a multitude, all at the same time. Every caress was minutely different, every probe inside his hole was a little more aggressive or hesitant with each motion. “Ahhh! Do not stop! Oh no! Not yet!” Liam panted, gasping as he came without warning, his cum shooting up into the air and splattering down onto his torso like rain. “Why?!”

“You are not done yet…and neither am I!” The voice replied with a chuckle and the mouth that had been on his cock changed into an ass. 

The pressure was different, still hot and smooth and glorious, but now it was wet and full as though he had been fucking it all night without pause. “Ahhh! I love this feeling!” Liam grunted, willingly spreading his legs as the ass moved without him having to thrust into it. At the same time, the many fingers and tongues that had been pleasuring his hole suddenly changed into a solid, thick cock that slid into his opening and plumbed his depths. “Oooh!”

Liam bounced up and down on the water cock and thrust his own dick into the transparent ass that clenched around him. He could feel himself ready to shoot again and raised his head, eyes wide at the strange sight, but so unbelievably aroused that he did not care how outlandish it was. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Liam shouted as he felt the water cock thicken again and stretch his hole pleasurably as though there were two strong, goddess’ blessed fishermen taking his ass, as had happened many times before. “Ohh! I need more! I need to cum! Ahhh!” The warrior moaned brokenly as he came harder than the time before, his cum shooting deep into the water ass and staying inside it, coating his dick in the thick white cream. “Ugh! Yes! Yes!”

“You still need more, do you not? Yes, yes you do!”

“Ahh, ahh, wow!” Liam gasped, giddy after his intense pleasure. “That was incredible! And I am still hard? Ahh, my ass feels so good now…I guess I can go another time…I’ll find Korey and Oisín later…ahhh, aww, yes, turn back into a mouth!”

“Where in Goibniu’s divine name is he?” Oisín grumbled and shook his head as he lit the torches that were extinguished when the gateway vanished. “Korey?”

“I am here.” The master smith was standing next to the offering bowl, now empty and unsullied. “But Liam is not, there is no trace of him.”

“I can see that.” Oisín sighed and tossed the other torch to Korey. “What do you think happened?”

“I do not know, only that the portal to the Other World has shut tight.” He sighed and gestured to the other side of the cave where a tunnel had silently appeared. “I do not think that Liam knew this would happen; perhaps he has been returned to the River Clan. In any event, I believe Boann wants us to leave. This way.”

“I’m coming.” Oisín followed him out of the cave and into the tunnel. This one was dry and cold, leading upwards at a sharp angle. “I suppose we better continue onwards.”

“Yes, we still have our own quest.” Korey turned to him and reached out a hand. “Here, this part is steep.”

“Thank you.” Oisín frowned at the tunnel as he scrambled upwards. “All of this is steep.”

They climbed in silence until the torches were burned halfway down, the tunnel brightening ahead of them. Korey lifted Oisín up and then pressed his finger to his lips to indicate silence. “That looks like sunlight, we may be finally through the caves.”

“Why the caution?”

“We do not know what is on the other side, leave the torches here.” Korey said, dropping his on the ground. “We must be careful, there could be enemies on the other side.”

“I’m with you, always.” Oisín smiled at him and pulled out his twin warhammers, giving them an experimental twirl and nodding. “Ready.”

“Good.” Korey moved forwards, his own warhammer held tight, ever ready to defend against a surprise attacker. They emerged into the afternoon sunlight, the clouds scattered across a light blue sky as the fiery disk slunk towards the west. Snow covered the ground here, but it was hard and did not give way underfoot as the duo continued forward, more snow floating down around them from the ashen clouds. “Hmm.”

“It looks clear.” Oisín muttered, glancing around carefully, taking in the barren landscape. “Look there, a path, perhaps?”

“Good eye.” Korey nodded and followed Oisín’s raised hand. Two mounds rose on either side of a trail that went between them heading towards another hill in the distance. “We should try and find shelter before dusk; if there is nothing out here, we would be best to return to the cave for the night.”

“Agreed.” Oisín sighed. “I cannot help but think of Liam…”

“I know, but there is nothing we can do save hope for the best.” Korey replied and gripped Oisín’s shoulder, pulling him closer for a brief embrace. He was about to continue speaking when a shadow fell over them and the birdman landed abruptly in front of them. “Huh?!”

“Caw! Caw!” The creature raised its wings and then its arms, talons pointing into the sky. “I come in peace! Krr!”

“Very well,” Korey recovered quickly and stood in front of Oisín, protecting him with his body. “What do you want, creature?”

“You are clever! Cleverer than others that have sought the Mountain Clan!” The birdman smiled at them, an unsettling expression as both halves of its face tried to move opposite each other. “Krr!”

“I thought it was a test.” Korey nodded carefully. “So, what…who are you?”

“Krrr! I am an emissary of Badb-”

“A goddess of war and death.” Korey said as Oisín frowned. “Apologies, emissary, go on.”

“Just as Goibniu favors you, master smith, so has Badb favored me with her gifts.” The birdman bowed towards Korey’s warhammer and then straightened up. There was a sudden flurry of wind and snow that wrapped around the creature and obscured its form from view. Just as soon as it had appeared, the gale fell away and a handsome youth with black hair stood before them, smiling slightly. He was clad in a black robe not unlike the one that Theodric wore. “I am Calatin, the other Storm Druid for the Mountain Clan.”

“We already met Midir at the foot of the mountains.” Oisín said, stepping around Korey and slipping both his weapons back through his belt. “So? Have we passed your trial?”

“Indeed, young smiths, indeed!” Calatin nodded happily. “You are strong, powerful fighters who defend each other well, but beyond that, you also know how to be merciful. A rare trait in these parts. Hmm, there was another of you, a warrior.”

“He is gone.” Korey said with a shrug. “He had a quest to honor Boann, goddess of his sacred river. When his ritual was completed, he vanished, we do not know where he is.”

“Ah, _that_ ritual!” Calatin smirked knowingly. “I have heard of it, the successful participants are brought a short way from here and blessed with Boann’s gifts. It is a…dangerous blessing.”

“How?”

“The avatar of the goddess may lose control, trapping her devotees in the pool of endless lust until their bodies cannot sustain the pleasure.” 

“Oh. Oh!” Korey blinked as the meaning set it. He shared a panicked look with Oisín. “Our friend is in trouble then, we have to find him!”

“I will search for him, it will be easier from the air.” Calatin offered, pointing behind him to where the mountains rose ever higher. “Follow this path and you will find the walls of our settlement. Midir is waiting for you, I will return when I have found your friend.”

“I suppose that’s…” Korey trailed off as Calatin returned to his bird form and took off with a loping run. “Hmm, come on, Oisín, I would like to have words with Midir.”

“This is a strange place, Korey.” The younger smith sighed and started walking again. “I think I want to return home soon.”

“Haha, all part of the adventure, _mo chroí_ ,” Korey chuckled and wrapped an arm around Oisín. “But think of the story you will have to tell the others!”

“True.”

“It will be an epic to rival any part of the Cycle of the Gods’ Chosen.” Korey assured him as Oisín smiled and nodded determinedly. “Good, let us hope that we reach this village before night falls.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to get this story finished within the next two to three weeks so I can focus on other projects-therefore you can expect the remaining chapters sooner rather than later. Thanks for reading!


	6. The Isolationists

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some minor smut in this chapter: a lot to come in the final one though!

The walled settlement of the other Mountain Clan rose out of the snow and mist all of a sudden when Korey and Oisín rounded a corner away from the path that led to the caves. It was built into the side of the mountain range, a long, gently sloping ridge was matched with thick grey stones that formed the boundary perimeter and tapered off once the scree became loose and treacherous. The other side was lost in rising fog, but it seemed to be a large semi-circle with only a single gateway which was overlooked by a tall wooden platform and sturdy wooden gates. A shallow ditch had been dug in the rocky ground and lined with sharpened wooden stakes, all pointing outwards at an aggressive angle. The crossing was made of a thin wooden log that balanced precariously above the ditch.

He could smell the sharp tang of smoke on the air, a mixture of wood and charcoal reminiscent of the forge. The houses immediately inside the wall weren’t visible, but Korey was able to see about a dozen roundhouses dotted about the slopes further back, with one large longhouse standing on a flattened square of land in the center of the settlement. There were some fields bordering the walls that he could see, but the snow covered them and only a few woolly sheep were wandering around the edge of the mountain.

“Come, let us get out of this bitter wind.” Korey muttered and wrapped his cloak tighter around his shoulders and torso as another blast of frigid air barreled down the pathway. Oisín simply nodded and crossed the log behind him, arms outstretched for balance, the duo arriving at the heavy wooden doors a few minutes later. Korey glanced around and then raised his fist to knock. 

“Oh!” Oisín grunted as the doors were pulled inwards and a tall, fair-haired man was revealed, standing across from them. He was leaning on a spear with a heavy stone-bladed tip, the wind catching the edges of his frayed cloak and blowing them to and fro. “Greetings!”

“Greetings, we have been expecting you.” The man replied and gestured for them to come in. “Midir already sent word that you would be coming. Please, come inside.”

“He knew that for certain?” Korey wondered aloud as he and Oisín walked into the settlement. “Those caverns had a…unique challenge.”

“Hmm, his certainty was well placed then: you are here.” The man glanced to one side and the doors closed behind them with a solid thud. “My name is Cathal, come, the Chieftain greatly desires to meet you both.”

“Oh, good.” Korey muttered and let Oisín walk ahead of him as they passed through the village, allowing the master smith to look around freely. It was a large settlement, perhaps as big in area as Scotti’s village, but with more buildings and more people. Almost every structure was built of stone with only a few made of wood, trees appearing to be rare this high in the mountains. The ground underfoot was gravely and uneven, gently sloping upwards as they climbed in a zig-zag path towards the longhouse in the distance.

Now that he was inside the walls, Korey was able to spot more than just the dwellings: there appeared to be structures for all manner of production; weavers, potters, tanners, and leatherworkers all were visible working inside and outdoors around smaller stone buildings. He could hear the familiar hammering of metal from across the settlement and there were clearly several different forges and workshops spread throughout the village; blacksmiths, weaponsmiths, apprentices, and laborers carrying materials to and fro. 

“Your village is large,” Korey said to Cathal as they rounded another bend and continued their climb, gradually getting higher and higher. “It is very impressive that you can sustain so many people in the harshness of these lands.”

“Hmph.” The man merely grunted.

“Ah.” Korey shared a concerned look with Oisín and dropped a hand to rest on the top of his warhammer, the metal reassuring and warm to the touch. _Somewhat unfriendly…_

“Wait.” Cathal said abruptly as he stopped next to a small shrine built into the stone base of the plateau where the longhouse stood. He bowed his head and reached out to press two fingers against a crude statue forged from gold, its endowment disproportionate to the rest of the features. A moment of awkward silence passed as Korey and Oisín stood watching him. Then Cathal nodded and resumed walking. “Come.”

 _Hmm, I do not recognize that god…or goddess. It could have been Aed, but the depiction was almost formless. Almost._ Korey thought to himself as he followed Oisín and Cathal up the steps and onto the plateau. The longhouse was impressively large, made of square stone blocks that fitted seamlessly together. Wooden beams gave the walls a more defined form and propped up an arched roof made from thatch, similar to that seen in the villages of Scotti and Lidia. The area outside the building was paved in large, smooth slabs of stone, but unlike the walls, the spaces between the stones were filled with hard compacted earth.

They approached tall wooden doors made of a dark, stained timber and studded with flat circles of copper in a pleasing symmetrical pattern. Their guide pushed open one of the doors and waited for them to follow him inside. “You wait here. I will tell the Chieftain that you have arrived.” Cathal grunted at them and walked through another set of doors across from the small antechamber. 

“Very well.” Korey nodded and glanced around. Unlike the communal dwellings of his former home in Scotti’s village, this longhouse was evidently divided into sections, planks of wood separated where they were standing from the rest of the building. He was able to catch a glimpse of a larger chamber beyond them when Cathal opened the door, but it was quickly shut behind them. The air was warm in the longhouse, almost stiflingly so, and Korey felt his skin grow hot, sweat rolling uncomfortably down his back and soaking into the thin cloth that rested between his body and his armor. 

Tallow lamps burned in small bowls set around the edges of the room, some elevated, but most were on the floor, throwing out just enough light to see. Korey wandered over to brush a hand against the walls, feeling the surprising smoothness of the pale stone against his hands. “Hmm, this place is well crafted.”

“They are not very welcoming though.” Oisín observed, following him over. “Or perhaps it is only Cathal who is unfriendly.”

“I am not so surprised about that,” The master smith replied, leaning against the wall so he could face Oisín. “We are outsiders, expected perhaps, but still not of their clan, not even of the northern lands.”

“I would have thought that would lend us some respect then.” Oisín frowned, his fingers tapping a nervous pattern on the head of his warhammer. “They are hidden away, I doubt the bandits frequently come here to _trade_.”

“Appearances can be deceptive, keep your eyes open.” Korey warned him and stood away from the wall as the door opened again and Cathal returned to them. “Yes?”

“Chieftain Maeve will see you now, come, outsiders.” The man replied shortly and turned around, striding into the main chamber.

“Lovely fellow.” Oisín muttered under his breath as Korey smirked and walked through the door. “Hmm, this is impressive!”

“Indeed!” Korey agreed quietly, craning his neck back to look up at the high vaulted ceilings of the longhouse, the beams running across it were made of carved wood with a pleasant silver gleam flowing through the grain. The thatch wasn’t visible, held back by yet more wooden panels that were of a darker material, not unlike the doors. Stone walls gave the building a regal air, with carved ornamented pillars supporting the roof guiding the visitor along a path through the longhouse.

Off to the side were tables and benches where various other members of the clan were talking and eating, although they stopped their activities to watch as Korey and Oisín walked past. Some areas were clearly for storage, with large clay pots and wooden crates and barrels kept together, coils of rope and hides visible in some of the containers. Korey looked back at the opposite end of the hall, noticing a long, deep pit had been dug into the floor. 

It was filled with wood and fire, the orange-red flames leaping high into the air, great waves of heat rolling away from the hearth. Beyond the fire pit was a small, raised dais and a chair covered in the white fur of some unknown creature, and two smaller chairs were set before the bigger one. A woman was sitting in the large chair, clearly aged and wizened, while two warriors with tall spears and rounded shields stood just behind her to the right and left of the seats.

Korey stopped a little bit away from the occupant of the chair and bowed, extending one hand outwards as he did so. Oisín followed his example and stood next to him, both of them remaining silent as Cathal gestured at them and then stepped away, going over to a group of men sitting nearby. 

There was a long stretch of silence as Korey matched gazes with the woman, his brows furrowing slightly when he noticed the striking resemblance of the Chieftain to Fionn. They were both equally old, perhaps even of the same age, and like him, her hair was long and silver, black strands threaded through it here and there. Korey cleared his throat and began to speak. “Greetings, I am Korey de Bryant, and this is Oisín Mc Darragh, we are of, haha, the Mountain Clan.”

“The clan in the south, yes, I know.” The woman spoke with a smile, her voice thin and reedy, but there was a spark of fire in her blue eyes. “Midir told me you would come, did you not, my old friend?”

“Yes, my Chieftain.” The Storm Druid was suddenly standing on the platform next to her, no plume of smoke or crash of thunder to announce his arrival. Midir smiled at them. “I am glad to see that you have survived the trials of the Seat of the Mountain, and that you have found your way here.”

“We met another of your kind on our way, um, Calatin.” Korey replied, looking around. “He is not joining us?”

“No,” Midir answered after a brief pause, his eyes turning milky white before returning to normal. “He has a task to complete: he has not yet found the river rock.”

“Hmm, that is somewhat worrisome.” Oisín sighed and glanced at Korey. “I fear for Liam’s safety.”

“The warrior can look after himself,” Korey replied, the hint of a smirk playing about his lips. He looked back at the Chieftain. “We have much to discuss.”

“Indeed, please, sit.” She gestured at the chairs. “Take your travel packs off, relieve yourselves of your cloaks, your journey has not been easy, I imagine.”

“It was no great trial,” Korey shook his head as he unfastened the broach keeping his cloak in place. “Some bandits, miserable weather, and many long miles. But nothing that I have not faced before.”

“Indeed.” Maeve whispered, her eyes widening as soon as she caught sight of his armor. “With protection like that, I imagine there is little that could defeat you!”

“Iron armor is a secret only recently discovered.” Korey acknowledged, running his hand over the smooth surface of the dull black material. The metal had been shaped to fit him specifically, with stylized elements meant to indicate where muscles were under the armor. Links of iron had been forged together and covered his shoulders and arms where the plate was thinner. “Iron is the future of warfare; not copper or tin or even bronze. It is strong-heavy-but can shrug off any attack from a sword or spear. Even arrows are of limited use against it.”

“Most impressive!” Maeve nodded approvingly. “Our smiths have mastery of gold and silver, but our mountain has precious little tin or copper. I do not think I have even seen this iron you speak of.”

“Perhaps you have and just do not know it.” Korey smiled pleasantly as Oisín pulled off his cloak, revealing a similar set of armor. “The metal is common in the southern lands, but only our clan has the knowledge to refine and smelt it.”

“Ah, you are smiths then?”

“Yes, both of us.” Korey replied and they sat down across from Maeve, after placing their weapons on the floor in front of the chairs. “So-”

“Korey is a master smith, blessed by Goibniu Himself.” Oisín pointed out as Midir arched his neck to look at their warhammers. “He unlocked the secret of iron forging.”

“Not alone, Oisín.” Korey chided him gently and smiled at Maeve and Midir. “I had assistance, and the Mountain Clan were well on their way to solving the puzzle without my aid.”

“You are from another clan?” Midir asked as Maeve gestured for food and drink to be brought out. 

“I was, but no longer.” Korey shook his head when a goblet was offered to him. “It matters not, I serve my Chieftain Fionn and my loyalty is to the Mountain Heart.”

“Yes, I know.” Maeve nodded sagely and gestured at the warhammer at Korey’s feet. “The mythical weapon of Goibniu cannot be wielded by just any man, we are honored to host such blessed guests in our hall.”

“These are the ones from the dream, Maeve, the ones we have been waiting for.” The Storm Druid said as Oisín took a drink and Korey watched them, his expression neutral. “The third member of their party is not with them however, we must wait until the river rock is found.”

“Liam had a different quest to ours, it was…unexpected to meet him along the way,” Korey frowned. “We were part of the same clan once, but, uh, things change; he found a new home amongst the River Clan, and I am with the Mountain. Regardless, his quest took him to the source of the great river; he had an offering to renew the blessing on his clan.”

“Yes, I have heard of such a ritual.” Maeve replied as Midir nodded slowly. “He would have vanished before you, yes?”

“Do you know where he went?” Oisín asked, leaning forward. “He may be a river dweller, but his sword arm is strong, and we have a wager to settle!”

 _Wager?_ Korey thought to himself with a groan. Aloud he said to Midir, “Calatin said that he would look for Liam, but he could have been taken anywhere.”

“There are lakes to the north as the mountain slopes down into the marshlands.” The Storm Druid replied, turning to Maeve. “With your permission, Chieftain, I will gather some of our warriors and hunters to come with me into the area. There have been sightings of unusual creatures in the caves near the border.”

“Go, find their companion, our discussion cannot be completed without him.” Maeve nodded swiftly and gestured for him to leave. She glanced at Korey, lips twitching when she noticed his confusion. “You are here for a reason, I know that much.”

“Our Chieftain, Fionn, he has been having dreams about this place. And Theodric, our darach, he believed that they were a message from the gods.” Korey explained as he accepted a bowl of lamb stew and waved away the steam that rose from it. “Mmh, good, thank you. Theodric worked his magic and well, here we are.”

“Hmm, I too have a similar story,” Maeve nodded along, taking a sip from her goblet. “That is why we knew…someone was coming, only Midir and Calatin truly knew what you looked like. There are few among my clan who trust outsiders, Findabair and her wickedness saw to that.”

“And we saw to Findabair.” Oisín muttered into his stew, his words not meant to be heard but Maeve released a great bellow of laughter and the smith went red. “Oops, I meant no-”

“Haha! Do not worry, young man, you are quite right.” She smiled good-naturedly at him. “We are protected by magic and the land itself, it would have been some time before Findabair came for us, but we would not have lasted. Our Storm Druids heard the disturbance from the great battle, when your druid called upon the sky and the clouds and brought forth fire and lightning.”

“That is part of the reason we are here,” Korey said, finishing his stew. “Fionn asks to unite the clans, to see if you are willing to…return. Although as I say these words, I am beginning to think that you are better off than we are.”

“Hmm, a union? Perhaps we should see if we can be friends first?” Maeve suggested. “If his dream was anything like mine, I do not know how many there are of you, only that your forge is hot and busy.”

“Interesting.” The master smith considered her words and then nodded. “To be honest, we did not know what we would find, if indeed, there was anyone to find. This…your village, we did not expect this. I think Fionn and Theodric both would be interested in speaking with you; perhaps you would consider an alliance instead of a union?”

“We can offer trade,” Oisín added. “Our weapons, armor, perhaps knowledge of metalcraft. And do not forget that we have many friends in the southern lands, their trade goods are varied and impressive.”

“I must consider your offer.” Maeve replied, standing up abruptly. “It is more than just friendship and trade, my clan has not left this village for seasons beyond counting. To return to the wider world will take some convincing. We will continue this discussion in the morning.” She gestured at two of her warriors standing nearby. “Brian, Fergus.”

“Yes, Chieftain?”

“Show our guests to the roundhouse next to the forge, it is reserved for the master smith of the clan.” Maeve added by way of explanation to Korey. “We have not had one with such skill in many seasons, so it is left ready, but has not been used.”

“Thank you, you honor me.” Korey nodded.

“We are the honored ones, master smith.” Maeve smiled. “To stand in the presence of Goibniu’s Hammer and his chosen champion, it brings me chill to even utter such words!”

“Thank you.” Korey stood and picked up his warhammer, noticing the looks directed at the weapon by all those around him. “Very well, I would like to see your forge as we are passing, if that is acceptable?”

“Of course, master smith.” One of the warriors bowed at him and indicated that they should follow them out of the long house. “This way.”

“Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Oh! Yes! Gods! Yes! Oh! YES! OH FILL ME UP!!” Liam cried out as another burst of pleasure ripped through him and he bounced giddily on the column of water that had stretched his hole wide. His cock spasmed and shook as cum gushed from the tip in a tingle of satisfaction that was just as pleasurable the tenth time as it had been the first time. “Ah! Aw, gods, that was amazing!” 

He sank into the pool again, letting the sweat of his exertions wash away, the cum dribbling down his overworked shaft and slack balls was soon swiped away also. Liam tried to catch his breath, feeling yet another thrill of desire spark in his stomach and travel into his cock, forcing it to lengthen once more, the head a dark, angry red. “Ugh, I cannot do another!” He protested vainly, weak muscles in his ass trying to resist the unnatural pleasure and pain that the water’s pressure was giving him. 

_“Hahaha!”_ There was a gentle tinkling of laughter and the water surged around him, swallowing his cock in a smooth, wet embrace. _“Another! I have waited so long to play with my clansmen! Once more and you shall be freed!”_

“That is what you said last time!” Liam struggled to get out of the pool, but the rocks were slick, and he just slid back into place, a cry of broken pleasure escaping his lips as his ass sunk deeper onto the watery cock buried in him. “Ahhh!”

“Caw, caw!” There was a sudden shadow overhead and Liam looked up to see a large shape swoop by. “I see you, warrior!”

“Oh, gods! Not that thing!” Liam yelped and looked around desperately for a weapon, all the while trying to ignore the intense sensations that were being applied to his cock, balls, and asshole as he shifted around in the water. “Ugh! We’re in danger!”

“Caw!” There was a heavy thud when the creature landed nearby on a rocky outcropping. “You have had your fun, Boann, maid of water!” The birdman called out, strings of bright silver dripping from its hands and arms into the pool. “Release this mortal and commit yourself to pleasuring the rest of his clan in the fullness of your river!”

 _“Argh, avatar of Badb!”_ The water hissed and surged, but released its grasp on Liam, the watery cock vanishing suddenly and the pressure around his navel dissipating. _“Very well, I am leaving to find your Chieftain!”_

“He’ll, uh, like, aww, that! Ah!” Liam gasped needily as he finally was able to relax, his cock returning to its limp state, his ass sore and stretched, but strangely warm and full at the same time. He pulled himself out of the pool and looked over at the birdman who was watching him with a tilted head. “Who are you?”

“Caw! Calatin is my name! Your friends are safe, already taken to the village.” Calatin spread his wings wide and crouched down, preparing to fire into the sky again. “Soon, warriors and the other Storm Druid will come, they will take you to them! Farewell!”

“Wait!” Liam shouted out as the creature launched into the air like a stone flung from a sling. “I don’t even have pants!”

“This is cozy, it’s no Mountain Heart, but it is nice.” Oisín observed as he reclined on a fur covered chair next to the roundhouse’s unique feature; a sunken pool of water that bubbled and hissed, stream rising off the surface. He had dipped his hands into it earlier and found that the water was hot, seemingly kept that way by the forge on the other side of the wall. Korey had said that Theodric had something similar in the darach’s house at the foot of the mountain. 

The rest of the roundhouse was kept warm and slightly moist by the pool; water running down the stone walls and making their skin damp to the touch. It was an unusual occurrence and Oisín could see that Korey was not as impressed as he was. The master smith was sitting in the chair opposite him, staring into the water, his brows furrowed. The stone floors and furniture shared a certain similarity to their own, but the bed was covered in a thick layer of straw and furs rather than cloth. 

Only the Chieftain and the Storm Druid seemed to have clothing crafted from finely spun wool and cloth, the rest of the villagers were clad in crude jerkins or long robes of the same ashen color. Some had jewelry on their arms and fingers, but not to the same extent as Oisín’s own clan, and only a select few had torcs of silver and gold, the rest using bronze or even mundane copper. He nudged Korey’s foot with his own. “What did you think of their forge?”

“It was lacking,” The master smith grunted. “They keep it hot and their farm tools are not terrible, but whoever passed on the knowledge to them was not themselves well trained. Did you see how they wasted the metal trying to craft that silver ring? So inefficient.”

“Perhaps that is a good thing; they will want an alliance if they think we can share our knowledge with their clan.” Oisín glanced at the door and then looked back at Korey. “Do you think they have found him yet? It is nightfall and snowing-the last time I looked outside.”

“They seem to think Liam is nearby, otherwise they are simply asking for time to consider our offer, why else say that we cannot speak again until he is here?” Korey sighed and stood up, stretching his arms over his head. They had taken off their heavy armor and wore only the thin linen undergarments that cushioned the metal. “Perhaps, we should-”

His words were interrupted by the door suddenly banging open and two warriors came inside, Liam slung between them, clad in a ragged red jerkin and stained white trousers, water dripping off them. Oisín jumped up and went over to them. “What happened? Why is he wet? Where did you find him?!”

“Easy, easy, put him down on the bed.” Midir’s voice came from outside, along with a swirl of cold air and snow. “Your friend is alive, if exhausted. Boann nearly wore him through, but Calatin was able to get to him in time. He was naked and the winter snows are fierce, he may become sick.”

“We can take care of him from here, thank you.” Korey said as the warriors left and he accepted a bundle of clothes from the Storm Druid. “You have our gratitude, Midir.” 

“Until the morning, champion of Goibniu, keep warm.”

“We will.”

“Hmm, I think he is actually sleeping.” Oisín muttered as he crouched in front of Liam and studied him carefully. “No sign of wounds or blood, he is very wet though. We should change his clothes.”

“I will wake him up so he can do it himself.” Korey replied with a smirk. “Best not to unnerve him if he suddenly comes to, hmm?”

“Yes, of course, you are right.” Oisín stepped back as the master smith approached Liam. He couldn’t quite see what Korey did but a moment later, Liam gasped and sat up suddenly. “Woah!”

“Ah!” Liam blinked and looked around in confusion before his gaze settled on them, Korey moving to stand next to Oisín. “Oh, it’s you, wow, am I glad to see you both!”

“Likewise.” Korey nodded. “I thought perhaps that was the end of you.”

“Haha, not exactly.” Liam chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “So, this is the village you were hoping to find? Hmm, I do not remember coming here.”

“They said that you were tired.” Oisín said, nodding at him. “And you are completely wet, best to change before you catch a chill.”

“Agreed.” Liam nodded and stood up, walking over to the pool. “Oh! This reminds me of that thing Theodric had in his house, do you remember, Korey?”

“I do.” He gestured vaguely at the water. “It’s very hot, you might gain some benefit from soaking in there.”

“Uh, I am not sure I want to get into any sort of water for a while…” Liam muttered with a rueful grin. His teeth suddenly started to chatter, and he grimaced. “On second thought, perhaps just to warm up.”

“The Storm Druid from before, Midir, he brought clothes for you, your own are still in the cave.” Korey said as Liam stripped out of his borrowed, wet clothing and approached the pool. “We can go back and get them tomorrow, you’ll want your sword at least.”

“Ahhhh, this is glorious!” Liam sighed contentedly as he sank into the hot water, his ass touching the bottom gently, his head tilted upwards, so his mouth didn’t submerge with him. He opened his eyes and looked over at Oisín and Korey standing by the bed. “Uh, Midir said you were insistent on finding me, thank you for that.”

“What happened to you?” Korey asked in response as Oisín wrung out the borrowed clothes. “Did Boann bless you and your clan?”

“Oh, the blessing was given.” Liam half-grimaced and reached down to fondle his cock as a flood of erotic memories from that afternoon returned. “And given…and given again…and given some more!”

“Oh my!”

“But for all that was given, I still don’t feel satisfied.” Liam arched his back, and his midriff breached the surface of the water, his cock fully hard and angling out from his body again. “See? I feel as though I have not cum in days!”

“Hmm, and what do you suppose we might do about that?” Korey replied softly, glancing at Oisín.

“Ah, I can think of a few ways to make him feel full…filled.” The redhead grinned eagerly at Korey. “If he is interested in seeing how the Mountain Clan is able to give and give!”

“Oh yes! I am very interested!” Liam smiled and beckoned them over. “Come and join me!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter should be out either next week or the week after. Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this last year, but never got around to finishing it. I’m hoping to do so this winter.


End file.
